Year 1: Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone
by Lady Dawson
Summary: Complete. What if instead of a trio there had been a quartet? How would things turn out differently for our heroes? And would their first year at Hogwarts turn out differently? How would Gwyn Swann's presence change their destinies?
1. How it Started

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter One: How it Started

On a quiet avenue in a quiet street in a quiet village in England, a small cottage lay on the very outskirts of town. To the naked eye, it appeared to be quite normal in all respects, nothing abnormal about it. But inside of this house lay a secret, a secret that made the occupants of the house very different from their average, ordinary neighbours.

The Swanns were just as average as they could come, as long as nobody looked closely at them. William Swann, the head of the household, owned a pub downtown and was well-respected throughout town. For him, at least, the normalcy was not pretence. He was, in fact, a completely ordinary fellow and had it not been for his wife Aurora, he would never have even known that another world even existed.

No, it was his wife that was the strange one. A tall, engaging woman with long blonde hair and open, bright brown eyes that showed the depths of her soul, Aurora Swann had opened the gates of the magical world she inhabited to her husband. Marrying a Muggle, she was spurned by her family and cast out, refusing to even consider letting her back into the fold. Although saddened by her family's rejection, she felt warmth and happiness at the choice she had made. Not only had it given her a man that she loved with all of her heart and soul, it had given her the one thing that she had longed her entire life for: a beautiful daughter.

Almost two years after she had been rejected by her family and cast out, Aurora gave birth to William's child, a daughter to be named Guinevere. Although the birth of their daughter gave the couple great joy, they were also fearful for their daughter's life, knowing the dangers that she had been born into, the dangers all around them. For the dark times were still upon them and even though their friends and neighbours did not know the strange occurrences that were explained away through accidents, William and Aurora knew what was happening. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had destroyed so many of their own . . . what would become of their daughter? Would she live a short life, always afraid of what may happen to her? Or would their hopes prevail and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named be destroyed?

It was on Halloween night a year after Gwyn's birth that the news that had been awaiting for had finally arrived; Lord Voldemort had fallen, destroyed by his own killing curse while trying to murder the Potter's son Harry. Aurora was filled with joy and sadness when she heard the news. Lily Potter had been her dear friend. They had gone to school together and taken the same classes. She had been maid of honour at Lily's wedding to James. It broke her heart to know that she was gone. But she rejoiced when she thought that there would be no more lives taken, no more friends to be mourned. And Lily's son had survived. That filled her with more contentment that she would have thought possible.

Despite the downfall of the Dark Lord, there was still much damage to be fixed in the wizarding world. Aurora worked night and day at the Ministry of Magic, helping with what she could to send every Death Eater that had ever hurt an innocent man, woman, or child to Azkaban.

William worried for her safety, asking her to stay at home as much as possible. "There are still those who would see You-Know-Who rise again, Aurora," he told her as she held Gwyn in her arms, rocking her back and forth in her rocking chair. "Until they are all imprisoned, it isn't safe for you to be out in the streets so much."

"You worry too much, my love," Aurora told him with a smile. "The danger has passed, there is no need for you to worry about me. Now that their master has gone, the Death Eaters have scattered and are struggling to put up the appearance that they were working under his control or that they hadn't been there in the first place. And you said it yourself; the streets aren't safe until they are all imprisoned. It won't be safe for our girl to be out in them while so many enemies walk freely." She smiled at her husband's concern. "Don't worry, William, I'll be fine."

Unfortunately, her predicament turned out to be a false hope. Not even a day after she assured her husband that she would be safe, a Death Eater attacked a crowd of people within Diagon Alley. Aurora, rushing to aid the witches and wizards there, was caught in the crossfire and killed. The Death Eater was captured and imprisoned for the murder of Aurora Swann and for following Lord Voldemort.

When they brought news to her husband, William was heartbroken, grief-stricken, and inconsolable. The weeks following his wife's death were the hardest in his life and had it not been for his little daughter, he might have been lost completely within the darkness.

Gwyn Swann was the reason her father was alive at all. If she hadn't been there, then he might had taken a knife to his wrists.

Although deprived of her mother at such an early age, Gwyn grew up as normally as she could have possibly done so. Her father was graver than he had been before his wife's death, but occasionally she would manage to make him crack a small smile at his young daughter's antics. But she was completely unaware of the magical world that was her heritage, because after her mother's death, William had refused to let Gwyn occupy the world that had killed his wife and caused so much destruction.

But as much as William would like to have stopped her from ever knowing about the world that her mother loved so much, Gwyn's heritage never would truly escape her. And eventually, the truth would be forced to confront her in ways she never would have imagined.

Because no only would she face unspeakable dangers, a evil wizard that was so terrible many feared to speak his name, and creatures both good and evil and beyond powerful, she would encounter friends beyond her imagination, adventure that she never could have envision, and learn magic that she never even dreamt that she would be trained to learn.

And Gwyn's story begins on that fateful day when she learned that everything she had ever imagined was real and the things she was able to do, things she thought were only part of her imagination, were a part of her mother's history . . . and a part of who she was destined to become.

--

"Dad?" Gwyn Swann called as she pushed open the door to her house, closing the door behind her as she dropped her book bag off by the door, shrugging off her coat and hanging it on the rack. She looked around for any sign of her father, but the house was still and quiet. "Dad, you home?"

Wandering into the kitchen, Gwyn climbed onto the kitchen table, finding a note by the batch of cookies freshly made by the housekeeper, Mrs. Harris. Picking up the note, she unfolded it to find her father's unruly handwriting on it.

_Guinevere,_

_Had to go to work early, so Mrs. Harris will be by later on to make dinner. Don't cause any trouble for her and be in bed by ten. Lock up as soon as you get this and don't open the doors to strangers. _

_Dad_

With a small sigh, Gwyn folded up the note delicately as she took one of the cookies, munching into it as she stood up and headed towards the door to go lock it, noticing as she did so that the daily mail was lying on the mat. Picking it up, she didn't even bother glancing at it as she dumped it onto the table, thoroughly annoyed at her father. "It's like he didn't even remember it was my birthday," she grumbled as she grabbed her bag and headed upstairs to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

As she looked around the room, she released a sigh as she walked over to her bed. Things had gone from bad to worse ever since that morning. It had started with waking up in a sweat by the dreams of her mother being murdered. She had always known that her mother had been killed by a monster, by her father had never elaborated on the subject. It was too painful for him, she supposed. But in the dreams, her mother was always killed by a man wearing a skull mask and brandishing a piece of wood at her mother. The dream always made Gwyn wonder what it meant. Why would her mother be killed by a piece of wood?

She supposed she should probably just go ask her father what the dreams meant, but every time that she brought up the subject of her mother, he would avoid the subject altogether and tell her to go outside and play or do her homework or something that would get her away from him. She never really did get much information about her mother.

Days were always harder to get through after she'd had gone of those dreams of her mother, because she was usually thinking about it for most of the day, but this one had been worse in particular. First, she had gone over to her friend Isabelle Cleveland's house and her mother answered the door, telling Gwyn harshly that Isabelle would not be able to see her anymore. "I won't have my daughter running around with a delinquent," she said harshly before slamming the door in her face.

While it was true that Gwyn did get in trouble sometimes, she could never explain how the things happened around her. There were just unexplainable incidents that occurred around her, things that couldn't be explained with normal circumstances.

When her plant at school had suddenly blossomed with colour while the day before it had been dying . . .

Isabelle's hair turning bright pink instead of its natural red . . .

Shrinking one of her mother's old dresses so that it would fit the doll that her mother had bought for her as a child . . .

Gwyn never understood how any of these things had happened, but they always happened with her around. And if she asked her father about it, he switched the subject.

After she'd left the Cleveland house, she had gone to the park and was sitting by herself on the swings, pushing herself back and forth when two boys from school started strolling over and started picking her, tugging on her blonde hair when the unexplainable thing happened again. Buckets of water suddenly dumped on them, soaking both of them through.

To come home to find her father had gone to work early wasn't exactly the topper of the day. Sure, she loved Mrs. Harris and the kind, widower was the best housekeeper that her father had ever hired—the first two were complete abysmal and that was putting it lightly—but Mrs. Harris actually took pity on Gwyn and helped her with her homework and listened to her when she need to talk things over. But still . . . Gwyn did only turn eleven once.

Climbing onto her bed, Gwyn plucked one of her books off of her shelves and opened it up, beginning to read. It was about an hour later when a knock came on the door. Knowing it was the housekeeper, she called, "Come in!"

The housekeeper poked her head in the door and smiled at the eleven-year-old. "Good book?" she asked and Gwyn nodded. "Well, that's good, but there are other ways to enjoy a birthday. Happy birthday, by the way."

"Thanks."

"Right, are there any requests for your big birthday dinner, since your father isn't going to be home?" Mrs. Harris still looked at her with a smile. Gwyn looked down and shook her head, not saying what was on her mind. Mrs. Harris could tell, because she walked over, placing an arm around Gwyn.

"Your father loves you, dear one," she told her softly as she brushed Gwyn's blonde hair off of her face. "It was just so hard for him after your mother died . . . he loved her so much. She was his whole world, his light. Having that taken away . . . it would be hard on anyone."

"Yeah, I know," Gwyn sighed. "But would it hurt for him to at least be here on my birthday?"

"Well, why don't you talk to him when he gets home?" Mrs. Harris suggested, patting her on the back. "There might be much for you two to talk about this evening anyway." She stood up. "I think that tonight calls for a deep dish pizza, extra cheese, and maybe some chocolate ice cream for dessert," she suggested, naming Gwyn's favourite foods.

Gwyn laughed for the first time that day. "Thanks, Mrs. Harris," she told the widower, who nodded as she turned to leave the room.

She was almost to the door when she suddenly turned around, looking at Gwyn. "Oh, and by the way, this came for you in the mail," she added, handing a letter from the mail that Gwyn had brought in earlier.

Gwyn frowned as she walked over to the housekeeper; who could have written her a letter? It wasn't like she had any friends who would be writing to her and from what little she knew about her mother's family, they weren't fond of her mother and hadn't even acknowledged her birth. And her father was an only child, his parents dead and forgotten by now. So who could possibly be writing to her?

Taking the letter from Mrs. Harris, Gwyn turned over the yellow parchment letter that was written in green ink.

_Miss G. Swann_

_The Second Bedroom_

_1327 Forest Road_

Curious despite herself, Gwyn didn't notice that Mrs. Harris had left her alone in the room with the letter as she walked back over to her bed. Climbing onto her bed, Gwyn slit open the envelope and unfolded the letter, which was made of parchment, same as the envelope, and began to read.


	2. Revelations

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Two: Revelations

As Gwyn unfolded the letter and began to read the green writing, her eyes began widening with every word and her mouth opened slightly as she stared down at it.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_

WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chief Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Miss Swann,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

_**Minerva McGonagall**_

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

There wasn't a coherent thought as Gwyn read the letter over and over again, thinking that she had misread it the first time. But each time that she read it, she was proven that her first glance had been accurate.

Was this a joke? Was this somebody's idea of a sick, twisted joke, because if it was, it most definitely wasn't funny . . . but what if it was true? There were so many things in her life that just could be explained by normal circumstances. Like today, in the schoolyard, with the water . . . how had the water gotten there in the first place? Had she, unintentionally, done that?

And how many other incidents were there, when there could be no other explanation than magic? Was it possible? Was it really possible? Could she, in fact, be a witch?

Gwyn's blood began to froze as she thought about how her father always closed up whenever she brought up the subject of her mother. Was this the reason? Had her mother been a witch as well? And if that was the case, then why had her father done his best to keep her from that world? Did something happen? What had happened to her mother?

Slowly, she stood up and began walking downstairs, still reading the letter as she made her way into the kitchen. Mrs. Harris was placing an unbaked pizza in the oven as she turned to look at Gwyn, who finally managed to tear her gaze away from the letter and found that Mrs. Harris was smiling at her sadly.

"I see that you opened your letter," she said as she wiped dough off onto her apron and gestured for her to sit down. Gwyn obeyed as she clamoured onto the seat that Mrs. Harris had indicated. "I suppose that you have a lot of questions, don't you?"

"How do you know about all this?" Gwyn shook her head, confused. "How do you know about the letter? Do . . . do you know what it says, what it's about?" She held out the letter helplessly and Mrs. Harris smiled.

"Yes, I know," she answered softly. "I'm a witch as well. Aurora was an old friend of mine and when she died, I ensured that her child would be protected. When I found out that your father had denied this world to you, then I knew that I had to do something. Aurora Swann's child should never be denied the world which she was destined to inherit."

"Dad knows about this?" Gwyn sought to confirm and Mrs. Harris nodded once. "And Mum? She was a witch?" Another nod made Gwyn sit back in her seat slowly as everything slowly reeled in. "But . . . but what happened? What made Dad want me not to have anything to do with this? Did something bad happen? And . . ." She glanced down at the letter. "What does it mean, await my owl?"

"They'll need an answer for you to tell them whether or not you wish to go to Hogwarts," Mrs. Harris explained kindly. "Owls are what wizards use for mail service." Gwyn stared at her wide-eyed. "Do you wish to go to Hogwarts?" she inquired.

"Do I want to go? Of course I want to go! But there's a whole lot I don't understand about all of this and I want to know about it before I go off making a big decision like this." Gwyn knew that she was rambling, but she didn't care. Mrs. Harris nodded, her smile fading as she leaned back in her chair, her eyes in the past.

"Well, I suppose that the best place to start is the very beginning," she said with a sigh. "Your mother was born into one of the most powerful wizarding families of all time: the Torens. The shining star of the clan, she grew up to be a powerful witch in her own right, but instead of the darkness that her family thrived on, she chose the light."

At Gwyn's confused expression, Mrs. Harris elaborated. "Much as Muggle fantasy would like you to believe, Gwyn, not all wizards are good. There are just as many that are bad. Just as Muggles are good and bad, there are wizards who are the same. And those who are bad usually chose to wield their magic for evil and use magic that is forbidden and against wizarding laws."

"You keep using that word, Muggle. What's a Muggle?" Gwyn asked, curious. She didn't want to interrupt, but she couldn't be expected to understand when she didn't know the word.

"Oh, forgive me," Mrs. Harris said with a laugh. "I keep forgetting how unfamiliar you are with the magical world. Muggles are non-magic folk, like your father and the people in the village." Gwyn nodded, understanding and urged Mrs. Harris to continue. "Well, when your mother was just a child, there was a wizard who wanted to gain power for himself. His named . . ." Mrs. Harris gave a small shiver, "was Lord Voldemort and I'm not going to say his name again, Gwyn. Most wizards can't stand to hear his name, even though he's been gone for ten years.

"Well, he began gathering followers, turning them to the dark side. For eleven years, the wizarding world lived in terror, fearing for their lives, their family's, their children's, their friends . . . you could barely trust anyone, not knowing whose side they were on. There was only one man that You-Know-Who was afraid of that was Dumbledore, your headmaster," she added, tapping the letter that was still clutched in Gwyn's hands. "But then justice finally rained down upon him, when he went after the Potters. James and Lily and their son Harry were attacked ten years ago . . . and only Harry survived. No one knows how, but he managed to escape with nothing more than a scar while You-Know-Who was stripped from his body, destroyed, and if he had a soul, then it was forced to leave and inhabit someplace where he can do no damage. No one knows what truly happened to him, though there are many theories. I suspect that he only . . . exists, unable to do anything. Neither living nor dead."

"What happened to Harry Potter?" Gwyn asked, wide-eyed as she listened to the story of her mother's world. Something about the name stirred up a good feeling, a feeling of warmth and protection.

"He was sent to live with his mother's sister and her family. He's the same age as you, so you'll be in the same class when you go to Hogwarts." Mrs. Harris smiled at her. "Now, when the war was over and peace was finally returned, the Ministry of Magic began to seize the Death Eaters. Followers of You-Know-Who," she added to Gwyn's puzzled expression. "Most of them had given up, tried to insist that they were under a spell. And some of them very well might have been, but not all of them. However, there were a few that . . . were still defiant against the Ministry and launched attacks. One of them attacked a wizarding village, where your mother was shopping. She went to help the locals and was caught in the crossfire. That Death Eater was arrested and put in jail for following You-Know-Who and also for the murder of your mother."

Gwyn was in a state of shock as Mrs. Harris finished this and when the numbness began to fade, she felt sadness and pride fill through her. Proud that her mother had risked her life to save others and sad because she would never know the woman who had given her life to save another's. "And that's why . . .?"

"Yes," Mrs. Harris agreed. "That is the reason why your father refused to tell you about this. He insisted that the wizarding world killed her and if you fled into it, eventually it would kill you as well."

There was nothing that Gwyn could say to this. Her mother had been born into a well-respected wizarding family that had rejected her when she chose to marry someone other than a wizard. And when she tried to save some wizards from getting killed by another wizard for nothing more than pleasure, she had gotten killed. Much as Gwyn hated to admit it, her father definitely had a reason for shutting her out of that world. But it wasn't his choice. This was her life and it was her choice on how she wanted to live it.

By the time that Mrs. Harris had finished the story, the pizza had finished and she sliced it up and Gwyn mulled everything over while she ate, still deciding on what she wanted to do. And despite everything that she knew, everything that had happened, she knew what she wanted. There was always a part of her that knew that she didn't belong in this world. And if there was another one where maybe she did, then wasn't it worth the risk, if it meant finding out where she belonged? And maybe for the first time, she would be able to find people who could accept her as she was. Maybe she would be able to have friends for once.

"Will Dad be very angry with me?" Gwyn asked after a long moment, looking up at Mrs. Harris. "When I tell him that I want to go to Hogwarts and study magic and be a witch, will he be very angry?"

Mrs. Harris considered. "I imagine that he won't be happy, but I think, given some time, he will understand that the wizarding world is a part of you, just like it was a part of your mother." She smiled at Gwyn. "I take it, then, that you've made your decision?"

Gwyn nodded. "I want to go to Hogwarts. I want to learn magic. I want to be a witch."

Nodding, Mrs. Harris stood up. "I had a feeling that was the choice that you were going to make," she answered with a smile. "Like mother, like daughter. You choose not the world that you were born and raised in, but the world that you feel a part of." She gave a low whistle as she opened the window and a great barn owl flew in through the window.

Reaching for her purse, Mrs. Harris produced a piece of parchment, a quill, and some ink. "Now, we'll just send a letter to Professor Dumbledore to tell him what you've decided," she said with a smile. "Best to do it before your father gets home, eh?"

Gwyn frowned; much as she wanted to go, she didn't like the thought of defying her father. But if he found out, she had the vague feeling that he wasn't going to let her go. And as it was, he was going to take a long time to accept what she was doing.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," she agreed, as she peered over Mrs. Harris's shoulder to read what she was writing to the headmaster. It was just a simple note, telling him that Gwyn knew everything and would be going to Hogwarts in September.

When she was finished, Mrs. Harris tied the note to the owl that sat hooting in the kitchen as Gwyn watched this with interest. "Get this to Professor Dumbledore," she instructed the owl before sending him flying out the window into the horizon. Gwyn watched the owl leave before she turned to the housekeeper, delighted.

"That was awesome!" Gwyn said, laughing. Mrs. Harris smiled at her. "Is that why wizards don't use regular mail? Because I have to say, that is a vast improvement to regular mail."

Mrs. Harris laughed. "No, that's not the reason, but I'm glad that you're pleased. Now that I think about it, you might want to get an owl when we go to get your school supplies. You're allowed to have a pet when you go. Of course, if you'd rather have a different animal, they have owls there that you can send letters with. Usually, you're allowed an owl, a cat, or a toad while you're at school there."

Gwyn frowned, considering. "No, I'd rather have a kitten, if that's all right," she said. "I've always loved cats and if I'm allowed to have one at school, I'd rather have a cat."

"Very well, then. Depending on how everything goes tonight with your father, I'll take you shopping for you school supplies tomorrow and we can get you a kitten while you're there." Mrs. Harris glanced up at the cloak. "He shouldn't be home for a few hours, so why don't we go get some ice cream until then? That's the thing about you and your father," she added with a wink. "You both are easier to talk to after you've had chocolate ice cream." Gwyn scowled at her, but grinned at the thought of chocolate ice cream as both women cleaned up the mess from dinner and then headed out into town.


	3. Making a Choice

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Three: Making a Choice

As it turned out, William was late getting home and Gwyn was lying half-asleep in the armchair of the living room waiting for him to come home while Mrs. Harris sat in her usual place on the couch, knitting carefully. "It's easier to do this with magic, of course," she commented to Gwyn as she sat in a chair, reading the equipment list that she hadn't originally noticed while she had been in shock of the whole series of events. "But it's sort of relaxing, you know . . . takes your mind off things."

Gwyn smiled as she read the list again, for what seemed like the thousandth time since she'd noticed it. After they had gotten ice cream—which there was some waiting in the freezer for her father—they had gone home to wait for William and talk to him about Gwyn's decision to enrol herself at Hogwarts School.

Pulling her thoughts away from her father and the discussion that lay ahead, Gwyn re-read the equipment list.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_

WITCHCRAFT _and _WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plan pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry nametags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following.

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ by Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Tremble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

As Gwyn finished reading the list again, she heard the door open and glanced up at her father shuffled in the door, tossing his coat on the rack and not initially noticing the two women at first.

But when he turned around, he saw the immediately and Mrs. Harris set aside her knitting for the moment as she stood up. William eyed her before looking towards his daughter carefully. "What's this all about?" he wanted to know, folding his arms across his chest.

"I think that you should sit down, William," Mrs. Harris said kindly as she stood up, guiding him over to a seat. Although her father looked like it was the last thing that he wanted to do, he sat down, looking expectantly at Mrs. Harris as she turned towards Gwyn, giving her an encouraging nod as the young witch stood up, walking over to her father and handing him the letter so that he could read it.

"What is this?" William said flatly without even looking at it. "Don't tell me that you've gone and gotten yourself in more trouble."

"Just read it, Dad," Gwyn told him quietly, not sure how to start or even go about confronting her father about this. She watched as he looked down at the letter, reading it carefully and watched as his face grew paler and paler until he was dead white. "Dad, I really need you to explain this. Mrs. Harris told me the general idea, but I need to know why you didn't tell me about any of this."

"You told her?" William threw a disbelieving look at Mrs. Harris, who nodded mutely. "But how could you tell her about . . .?" He stopped for a full minute, staring at her carefully. "Madeline Harris," he said finally. "Madeline Cullen, as was, isn't it? Aurora's friend." He shook his head in disgust. "I cannot believe I didn't recognise you."

"It was a good thing that you didn't, because I would have cast a memory spell on you either way," Mrs. Harris said quietly. "I wasn't about to let Aurora's daughter be forced into a world that she didn't choose."

"Oh, is that the reason why you took this job?" William threw up his hands in annoyance. "Well, you know what? You can pack up and leave, because I'm not going to let that world destroy my daughter like I watched it destroy my wife. It killed her and because she couldn't escape from it, I lost my wife and my daughter grew up motherless." He threw a look at Gwyn, who stood by the fire, quietly watching the exchange between the two adults. "She didn't tell you that, did she?"

"Yeah, she did," Gwyn said quietly. "She told me that Mum was killed in a crossfire, trying to protect some people from a bad wizard." William flinched at the word 'wizard', but she ignored that. "She told me that another bad wizard, Voldemort—" Mrs. Harris winced, but she ignored that as well "—tried to rise up and take control and that he killed innocent people. She told me everything, Dad. What I don't get is why you didn't."

"You didn't need to know anything about it," William said flatly. "And just because the housekeeper says that you're a witch, that doesn't make you one, Guinevere."

"She didn't have to tell me," Gwyn said, angry at him using her full name. "I could _feel_ it. I've never belonged in this world, Dad, and I'm never going to. So why can't I just go and find out if this world is maybe where I belong?" William didn't answer; the fury was evident on his face. "I am a witch, right? Right?" she added when he didn't answer, but the look on his face gave her an unspoken answer. "So it's true. I am a witch and so was Mum. By why didn't I ever know about it? When all that weird stuff started happening to me, why didn't you tell me about it?"

"Because, once again, it's not something that you needed to know. THe world that took your mother away isn't our world. This one is," he added, gesturing towards the door that led outside. "I am your father, Guinevere, and I am human, just like you are and that is the world that you and I are going to live in. Period."

Gwyn stared down her father for the first time, not caring what happened afterwards. For once, she was going to make her own choice and whatever the consequences were, she would take them. "Look, Dad," she said in a quiet voice that was nonetheless filled with power, "if you want to deny Mum's roots, that's fine. But I don't. And it's not right for you to try and make me." She looked away for a minute. "I'm going to Hogwarts and I'm going to use magic and I'm going to be a witch. The only question left is . . . can you accept that part of me? Because it's a part of who I am."

William leaned back in his chair, looking at his daughter. "If you think that you're so capable of making decisions," he said at long last, "then you make them somewhere else."

"Now, really, William—" Mrs. Harris tried to intervene on her behalf, but William cut her off.

"You stay out of this," he snarled at her. "No daughter of mine is ever going to be a part of that world. Hear me right now, girl, and think very carefully about this. If you walk out of this house to go to that . . . school, then don't even think about coming back."

Gwyn felt tears start to appear in her eyes and she felt Mrs. Harris wrap her arms around her. "Why don't you go get some of your things, dearest?" she said kindly to Gwyn. "I'll finish the discussion with your father. Don't worry, you're not going to be homeless."

As Gwyn headed up the stairs, she heard Mrs. Harris start lecturing her father and she shut the door to tune out the conversation. She picked up a bag and started packing stuff into it. Clothes, some books she couldn't live without, and a few childhood memories. But most of all, the photo album that held pictures of her family in it, before her mother had died. Before everything had changed for her and her father.

When she was finished packing, she walked back downstairs just in time to hear Mrs. Harris say, "You think you still care about her, William? Did you even remember what today is? Her eleventh birthday. And you couldn't even be bothered to be reminded of that fact."

William said nothing as she turned around to smile at Gwyn. "Come along, dear," she said kindly as she walked Gwyn out of the house that she had spent her entire childhood. And Gwyn only glanced behind her once to see the front door slammed behind them, barring her from ever returning to the place that she had once called home or the man she had known as her father for eleven years.

--

As Gwyn stood in the spare bedroom in Mrs. Harris's house, she shifted her bag higher onto her shoulder to turn and look at her new guardian. "Mrs. Harris," she said cautiously, "are you sure that this is all right?" She didn't want to intrude on the woman who had lived alone for nearly ten years, ever since her husband was killed. Although, now that Gwyn thought about it, he had probably died from causes not unlike her mother.

Mrs. Harris smiled at her from the doorway and wrapped her arms around the witch. "Darling, I wouldn't have it any other way," she assured her. "Now, go ahead and unpack, there's plenty of space in the drawers and closet. Make yourself at home and tomorrow, I'll take you over to Diagon Alley, where we'll get your school things." She tousled Gwyn's blonde hair affectionately before turning to the door to leave.

"But I don't have any money to pay for any of my school stuff!" Gwyn protested, not about to ask Mrs. Harris to pay for it when she was already doing so much for her. After all, she had cost the woman her job after her father found out what had happened.

Mrs. Harris chuckled. "Your mother knew that there was always a chance that you might run into some trouble concerning your magical education, Gwyn. Although your father originally was . . . well, I don't want to say delighted that magic existed, but he was tolerant of our world, he did want you to have a normal life."

"Normal is vastly overrated," Gwyn commented, causing Mrs. Harris to laugh even harder.

"Well, in any case, the small fortune that she'd inherited from the one family member that didn't despise her choice, her Aunt Phoebe, she put into a vault at the wizard bank, so that you could use it for your schooling should you run into an trouble."

Gwyn smiled, grateful that she had such a thoughtful mother. "She really did think things through, didn't she?"

"Yes," Mrs. Harris said with a small, sad smile. "Yes, she was always thinking ahead, always making sure that the future was safe and secure for her bright-eyed, beautiful little girl."

"What was Mum like?"

Mrs. Harris's eyes grew quiet at the question and she looked out the window, her eyes in the past. "She was . . . kind," she said at long last. "And determined and brave. There were few who could match her skill in Transfiguration. And there was always something about her that . . . made the world seem a little brighter."

Gwyn looked down as she thought about her mother, long since dead and leaving her daughter to be raised by a father to distraught to let her make her own choices. "I wish that I'd known her," she said at long last. Mrs. Harris nodded kindly.

"She would have been proud of you today," she told her. "It takes amazing strength and courage to stand up to those you want to see you for who you really are than it takes to stand up to your enemies." She paused. "Go ahead and get some sleep, dear child. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

With a small smile, Gwyn nodded as she went to go change into her nightgown. As Mrs. Harris turned out the light and closed the door, Gwyn lay down onto the bed, thoughts of her mother drifting in and uneasy dreams of times long since past swept through her mind, plaguing her dreams.

For the first time in ten years, Gwyn Swann was finally leaving the girl she thought she was behind and becoming the one who she was destined to become. She was finally leaving to come home.


	4. Shopping in Diagon Alley

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Four: Shopping in Diagon Alley

It was early the following morning when Gwyn woke up, the sunlight pouring in through the curtains, gently pulling the young witch into the waking world. As she climbed out of bed, rubbing her eyes as she blinked in the bright sunshine, it took a minute for Gwyn to realise where she was. Then the memory of the previous night's events plunged through her mind as she peered out the window, staring into the quiet streets before she headed into the bathroom to get dressed.

Pulling on a lilac shirt and beige pants, Gwyn tried to stay quiet so not to wake Mrs. Harris, but when she got downstairs, she found the former housekeeper already awake and making pancakes as she turned to greet the young witch. "Good morning, Gwyn," she said with a smile. "I hope you're hungry, because I went a little overboard."

"Starved," Gwyn admitted as she dug into the pancakes. "So . . . where exactly is this Diagon Alley that you told me about? And can we really get all of my supplies there?"

"Only place that you can," Mrs. Harris answered with a smile. "And it's in London, right next the Leaky Cauldron." Gwyn, who had never heard of this particular place before, chose to simply accept this as she finished the pancakes. "Well, let's clean up and then we'll be off."

They took a bus to London, where they got off and strolled the streets of London, not looking at all like two witches who were doing the younger one's school supplies for her school of magic. They were halfway through the city when Mrs. Harris started pushing her towards one of the shops. "There it is," she told Gwyn with a smile. "The Leaky Cauldron."

Gwyn stared up at the pub. "This is where we're going to get my school supplies?" she asked, making sure that she understood the housekeeper right. The place looked like it had been through some rough patches and now that she noticed it, she didn't think any of the people around them could even see the place.

"No, we have to through it to get to Diagon Alley," Mrs. Harris explained as she pushed open the door to the pub and gestured for Gwyn to follow her. Although sceptical, Gwyn obeyed and slipped through the pub, the door closing behind her.

She was shocked by the scene that met her eyes. The place was a dark, dingy place filled with people in robes and dressed in clothes one might wear during Halloween. And not only that, the people themselves . . . some of them weren't entirely human. In fact, she was sure she saw a few goblins and other magical creatures that only existed in fairy tales.

While she was being pulled along, still in a state of shock, she heard a few of them greet Mrs. Harris. "Morning, Madeline."

"Good to see you again, Rupert."

"How have you been?"

"I've been well, Paris," Mrs. Harris said with a nod to the elderly wizard who spoke to her. "How have you been?" She continued to meet and greet a few of the wizards and witches there as they made their way through the back.

When they were standing outside, where Gwyn could vaguely hear the sounds of a large crowd nearby, she blurted out, "Who were all of those people? Did you know all of them?" Everything was starting to settle in, that there was an entirely other world quite unlike the one where she had just come from and she was a part of it.

"Most of them are old friends," Mrs. Harris answered as she pulled out a wand from her pocket and began tapping stones on the wall. "I haven't seen some of them in years. You'll get used to things around here after awhile, Gwyn," she added with a smile.

As the wall started to open in front of her, Gwyn started to get the feeling that this was only the beginning. Her mouth was open slightly as she stared in amazement at all the shops and stores selling wizard trinkets and other necessities. "Wow . . ." was all she was able to say as she walked with Mrs. Harris, hardly able to believe her eyes. Mrs. Harris smiled at her amazement while they walked towards the white building. "This is . . . wow."

"Yes, it is quite amazing to someone seeing it for the first time," Mrs. Harris agreed as they walked up the steps of the white building and she opened the door, leading Gwyn inside. "This is Gringotts, the wizard bank. We'll be able to get some of your mother's money from here. Now, where did I put Aurora's key that she left me?"

Mrs. Harris began digging into her purse and finally produced a small, golden key hanging on a chain, which she handed on to Gwyn. "Hold on to that while I go talk to the goblins. They can be tricky, sometimes," she said with a smile, leaving Gwyn to stare around at the inside of the bank, circling around until she accidentally bumped into someone.

"Oops, I'm sorry," she apologised as she helped the girl up. She was around her own age, with thick, bushy hair that hung around her face with bangs that fell constantly into her brown eyes that held a certain intelligence and wisdom beyond her years. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

"It's quite all right," the girl said. She had a bossy sort of voice, Gwyn noticed, but she liked her well enough. "I wasn't paying attention either. All of this is so amazing." Sticking out her hand to Gwyn, she said with a smile, "I'm Hermione Granger."

Accepting her hand, Gwyn shook it. "Gwyn Swann, nice to meet you," she answered. "Is it your first time at Hogwarts, too?"

Hermione nodded eagerly. "Yes, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter," she explained. "All of my family is Muggles, so when I got it, none of us knew whether or not it was a joke or not."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Gwyn said with a chuckle. "I was raised by my Muggle father. My mum was a witch, but she died years ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hermione said, sounding truly sympathetic as she looked at something behind Gwyn. "Who is that, then? A relative of yours?"

Gwyn looked around to find Mrs. Harris approaching the two girls with a couple bags of gold weighing her down. "No, she's an old friend of my mum's. Dad wasn't exactly happy about my decision to come here, so she's taking me shopping. Mrs. Harris, this is Hermione Granger," she introduced as the housekeeper reached them. "Hermione, this is Mrs. Harris."

"How do you do, Hermione?" Mrs. Harris smiled at her. Hermione smiled back. "It's good to see that our Gwyn has already taken to making friends."

"Thank you," Hermione said just as a man called towards her. Gwyn glanced at them and judging by the similarities between Hermione and the woman, she guessed that these were her parents. Hermione confirmed this a moment later when she called the man 'Dad.' Looking back at them, she said, "I've got to go. We've still got a lot of shopping to do today. But I'll see you at Hogwarts, Gwyn, all right?"

"Yeah, I'll see you there," Gwyn agreed as Hermione went to go back to her parents and she looked up at Mrs. Harris.

"Well, she certainly seems like a nice girl," Mrs. Harris commented as she passed one of the bags of gold to Gwyn. "This should be enough to get your school supplies, with some left over. Now the first thing we should do," she commented as they headed out of the bank, "is probably get your robes, since it's right there," she added, nodding the robes' shop.

The moment that they entered the store, the witch in charge asked she was a first year before ushering her off to fit her for the black school robes required. Gwyn took a look at herself in the mirror while she was getting measured, surprised by the difference that just a change in outfit it had made.

Because instead of seeing a quiet, uncertain girl of eleven, she saw a determined and calm witch that was able to hold her own, despite uncertain odds. Her blonde hair hung around herself, standing out against the black robes but looked nearly perfect against them and her blue eyes stared out at her, lighting up her face.

"It suits you," Mrs. Harris agreed as she watched Gwyn. There was nothing that Gwyn could to argue against that; she was right. The robes had shown her for the first time who she really was. She was Gwyn Swann, the daughter of Aurora Toren-Swann and a rightful witch.

They fitted in and out of the stores, buying all of the necessary books and equipment for her first year. Gwyn looked through the bookstore for some more books, but the only one that Mrs. Harris would let her buy was a history book that would give her some more information about the wizarding world, since she was so new to it.

"You'll need to get more training in before you start some of those higher spells, Gwyn," she replied as they paid for the books before heading out of the door. "All right, we seem to have gotten most of the things . . . except for a wand and an animal. Why don't we do the wand first? They're both going to take a little while, because I know you're going to be choosy about your animal." Gwyn made a face and Mrs. Harris chuckled. "And I know from experience that it can take awhile to find a wand, because they choose the wizard—or witch, as the case may be."

"What do you mean, choose?" Gwyn asked, frowning as they headed towards the store marked Ollivander's. "You talk as though wands have feelings or something."

"I don't know much about wandcraft, Gwyn," Mrs. Harris admitted, "but I know that the wand chooses which witch or wizard it wishes to be with. Come along," she added as she opened the door to the store and they set the packages they'd already bought on the windowsill as Mrs. Harris looked around. "Mr. Ollivander?"

An elderly wizard with eyes like the moon appeared as though he had been summoned by her call. "Madeline Cullen," he said with a smile. "Pine, 6 and ½ inches, dragon heartstring, wasn't it?"

"Good memory."

"Never once have I forgotten a wand that which I sold, Madeline Cullen," he told her as he turned to face the young girl standing in the window. For a second, she thought that he was going to mistake her for Mrs. Harris' daughter, as so many had already done today. "Oh, my . . . I wondered if I would be seeing you, my dear." He smiled. "You are the image of your mother, Aurora."

"You knew my mother?"

He nodded. "She bought her first wand here. A fine wand it was, too," he added reminiscently. "Ash, 7 ¾ inches, with a phoenix feather residing inside of it. It was good work for Transfiguration and I have since heard that it was her speciality. The wand chose the witch well . . . very well." He shook his head, pulling himself from the past as he headed towards the shelves. "Now, let's see here . . . which wand hand are you?" he called from the shelves.

"Which hand is dominant," Mrs. Harris whispered to Gwyn's confusion.

"Oh! I'm right handed," she answered, though the shopkeeper was nowhere to be seen. But after a moment, he reappeared, carrying a few stacks of wands in her arms, placing them on the table in front of them.

"Well, let's try this one," he said, handing her one carefully. Gwyn took it, but almost instantly, it was snatched away. She tried another and another, but no matter what she did, it didn't seem to make Mr. Ollivander happy. "Don't worry, Miss Swann, we'll find a match eventually," he called as he went to go grab more wands.

"Is this what you meant by it taking awhile?" Gwyn whispered to Mrs. Harris, who nodded, covering her smile with her hand. She sighed as Ollivander suddenly reappeared, holding a very old and ancient box.

"Why don't we try this one?" he suggested, hand it to her cautiously. Gwyn took it slowly, her hand curling around the wand. Almost instantly, she felt a rush of power flow through her and she closed her eyes as she sensed it and fireworks exploded from the tip of the wand, causing both Mrs. Harris and Ollivander to cheer happily. "Oh, yes! Well done! My, my . . . I never would have expected that. Very curious . . ."

"What's that?" Gwyn asked as she looked down at the wand in her hand, liking the way that it felt in her hand. She couldn't explain it, but the wand _felt_ like it was hers.

"That wand has been in my possession so long that I'd almost forgotten that I'd had it," Ollivander answered as he took it from her, packaging it up for her. "Willow, 6 ½ inches, unicorn hair. Nothing extraordinary about it, except for the fact that the unicorn that gave its tail hair had it placed within the wand of another. The wand that was the brother of yours belonged to a very powerful witch by the name of Elizabeth Novacek." Gwyn frowned, not recognising the name and judging by the look on Mrs. Harris's face, neither did the housekeeper.

"A very powerful witch indeed," Ollivander murmured as he continued to look at Gwyn, who shifted uncomfortably underneath his moon gaze. "And I think that we can expect much from you, Guinevere Swann. The daughter of Aurora Toren whose wand lies connected with one of most powerful witches whom ever existed . . ." He smiled faintly as he nodded. "Yes . . . I think that we can expect to see much from you. And I believe we can look on your future with great interest."


	5. A Companion and Worrying

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Five: A Companion and Worrying

When they exited the wand shop, the sun was already high in the sky and starting to descend further and further into the horizon, where it would disappear, until a new day would greet them. The two were overloaded with Gwyn's packages, but they still had one last thing to get before they were to return back to Mrs. Harris's house.

Climbing into the pet shop, Gwyn gazed all around at the many screeching animals that were in cages all around the shop, in many shapes and sizes. Making her way through the shop, Gwyn looked around as the animals eyed the young witch carefully, as if wondering if she would overlook them as many had done so already that afternoon. Gwyn wished that she could take them all, so they wouldn't have to be in cages, but able to roam free, but that was impossible.

Hearing a soft meow, Gwyn looked around to see a small, tabby kitten poking its head out of its cage to look hopefully up at her with imploring brown eyes. Almost at once, Gwyn's heart was lost to the little kitten as she knelt down next the cage, stroking his chin carefully as he licked her hand affectionately. Gwyn giggled at the feel of his tongue on her palm and made her decision immediately.

"Oh, isn't he a little darling?" Mrs. Harris crooned as Gwyn picked up the kitten and made her way to the front.

Gwyn grinned. "Yeah, but he's a real clawer," she answered, trying to release the clawful hold that the kitten had her in. The clerk chuckled at her wry humour before he rang them up for the kitten, a cage, and some food for the kitten.

Just as Gwyn was about to reach for what was left of the money, Mrs. Harris moved forward with her own purse in hand. "Don't worry about it, dear, I've got this one," she told her.

"No, that's no necessary," Gwyn protested.

"Consider it a birthday present," Mrs. Harris smiled as she handed the correct amount to the clerk and turned to the young witch. "With the lack of presents yesterday, you're not in any position to complain, young lady."

With a small smile, Gwyn shook her head. "You don't consider finding out about this world a present?" she asked.

Mrs. Harris chuckled as Gwyn gently lifted the laws away from her shirt and guided the kitten into the cage before they headed out of the store, weighed down by packages as they headed towards the Leaky Cauldron, where they caught the Knight Bus back to the house.

Gwyn was surprised by the wizard bus when she first saw it, but once she had climbed onto it and was thrown from her seat half a dozen times, she wished that wizards would come by some other mode of transportation. And she doubted that she was the only one; there was a middle-aged witch who looked slightly green as she stumbled off.

"What's Hogwarts like?" she asked Mrs. Harris as they were riding. "What are the teachers going to be like?"

"Well, the castle is going to be hard to get around the first couple of weeks, everything's always moving around on you, but there's always going to be a ghost around if you need help," Mrs. Harris answered with a smile. "Watch out for Peeves, though, he's the school poltergeist and a prankster. I shudder to think of what he was like when he was alive, but if it's anything like his ghost self, then I pity those who knew him. If you're in Slytherin, then he's not going to be as bad. The only person, dead or alive, that he listens to is the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin House ghost."

"Slytherin House?"

"There's four houses at Hogwarts. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin," Mrs. Harris explained. "You'll be sorted into a particular house based on your own strengths and weaknesses as soon as you arrive. Of course, you don't necessarily want to be in Slytherin House. That was the house that You-Know-Who was in and there's few that go into that house . . ." Her eyes darkened as she spoke this particular thought, "that don't go over to the Dark Side. You have to be a person of extraordinary will and character to survive the evil that will corrupt you there."

Gwyn shivered, not liking the sound of Slytherin House at all. "What are the others like?"

"Well, Hufflepuff is far those who are loyal and true and kind. Ravenclaw are the ones of great minds. Some of the greatest thinkers of our time have been in Ravenclaw. And then of course, Gryffindor is those who are brave of heart. Many, many of the bravest witches and wizards were in Gryffindor."

As she listened to this, a particular thought occurred to Gwyn. "Was my mother in Gryffindor?"

"She was."

Leaning back in her seat, Gwyn wondered what house she was going to be sorted into when she arrived. Loyal and true? She hadn't exactly been loyal to her father when she disobeyed him to go to Hogwarts. And while her marks weren't bad, she wasn't exactly the scholar of the family. That left Gryffindor and Slytherin. Mrs. Harris had called her brave, but she hadn't felt very brave when she was leaving home. She just hoped that she wasn't going to be in Slytherin. That house sounded like more trouble than it was worth.

"And the teachers?" she asked. "What are all of the teachers like?"

"Well, it's been a few years since I was there, so I don't know what the new ones are like, but Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor House, is pretty strict. If there's one thing that you don't want to do, that's get on her bad side. Flitwick, the Charms teacher and head of Ravenclaw House, you'll like. He's very easy going, so long as you do the work. Sinistra I think you will find she can be strict, but Astronomy is a pretty hard topic, so you'll want to pay close attention. The History of Magic teacher, Binns, you'll find frightfully dull," she said with a smile. "He'll be your only ghost teacher."

Gwyn looked at Mrs. Harris in order to see if she was joking. "A ghost?" she echoed. "Teaching?"

"Legend has it that he stood up out of his body one day and just began teaching. Many don't even think he's realised that he's dead," Mrs. Harris said with a smile. "Defence Against the Dark Arts, I don't know about, because they usually have a new teacher every year."

"How come?"

"They say that the job is jinxed. There hasn't been one for at least fifty years that hasn't lasted more than two semesters. And let's see . . . Herbology will be Professor Sprout. She's pretty fair and patient if you work hard. She's the head of Hufflepuff house. And last but not least, there is Potions." Mrs. Harris smiled grimly. "I daresay that you'll find that frightening."

"It's that scary?"

"Not the material, but the teacher definitely is." Mrs. Harris sighed. "Severus Snape, an old classmate of mine and your mother's. He'll recognise you straight off. As Mr. Ollivander said, you're the image of your mother. It's hard to say how he'll react to that. He never has truly forgiven your mother for something she did years ago."

"What did she do?" Gwyn inquired, wondering why something her mother did would affect whether or not the teacher hated her or not.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Mrs. Harris said with a smile. "He just didn't like the way things turned out in that respect. But he's a very hard teacher, especially if you're in Gryffindor. He's the head of Slytherin house and favours those in that house."

"There should really be a law against that," Gwyn complained as she leaned her head against the window frame. Mrs. Harris laughed as they rode through the streets of England. "What about the headmaster?"

"You'll never find a kinder or more frightening wizard than Albus Dumbledore," Mrs. Harris answered. "I daresay that one day you'll see for yourself why it is that he's the only wizard that You-Know-Who ever feared. And then you'll understand."

Although she didn't understand this, Gwyn accepted it as they turned onto the street that Mrs. Harris' house was on.

But as they climbed up off of the Knight Bus and headed up the driveway to enter the house, Gwyn saw a car drive by that she recognised immediately. However, while she saw her father, he refused to even acknowledge her presence as he drove past them, disappearing into the distance. And Gwyn knew at once that the wedge between her and her father had been driven even farther apart.

--

During the course of the next few months until the school term started, Gwyn continued to stay with Mrs. Harris, who was thrilled to have Gwyn stay with her, though they both knew that William's rejection of her had cut into the young witch deeply. Most of the time, Gwyn read her schoolbooks, curious about the world that she had inherited from her mother. They were very interesting, especially the Charms book. It seemed like an interesting class, as did Potions. She just hoped that Snape wasn't as foul and mean as Mrs. Harris had portrayed him to be. Half of her hoped that it was just old grudges surfacing, but she doubted that's all that it was.

Her new kitten—whom Gwyn named Tabby—enjoyed having a new mistress and kept her company while Mrs. Harris went to get a new job at the Ministry of Magic. That was a surprising fact that she learned about her old housekeeper; before she'd come to work for her father, she had actually worked within the Ministry, at the Department of Magical Sports and Games. With some help of her old friends there, she was able to secure a spot in the same department that she'd been in before she'd left.

Although Gwyn expected the rest of the summer to tick by, it went by surprisingly fast and soon, she was waking up on September 1st, ready to go.

She must've woken up half a dozen times during the night, excited and worried about the new term. What if she messed everything up? What if she turned out to be worse off than she had been before? But then again . . . what if she did great?

Gwyn finally got up at six o'clock in the morning, checking her trunk to make sure that she had everything packed and dressing quickly as Tabby climbed onto her lap, meowing for attention. With a smile, she held her kitten in her arms while she made the bed and paced back and forth in her room while light continued to grow stronger, lighting up the entire room.

"Couldn't sleep?" Gwyn jumped when she heard Mrs. Harris' speak behind her and whirled around to see the witch standing behind her with a cup of tea in her hands. "It's always like this on the first days. It happened with me and both of my sisters." She shook her head reminiscently. "Well, come on downstairs, Gwyn. There's breakfast and then we can check to make sure you have everything, then we can go."

"Are you sure we have enough time?"

Mrs. Harris chuckled, shaking her head. "There's plenty of time," she assured her. "Now come along, breakfast is waiting." She took Gwyn's shoulders and led her downstairs, forcing her to sit down at the table and eat something, but Gwyn could hardly even swallow due to excitement and nervousness.

Finally, when Mrs. Harris decided that she'd eaten enough, she scrambled back upstairs to make sure that everything was packed and then they hoisted the trunk and moved it over to the car, placing it into the back before climbing into the front.

As she watched the streets of London speed by, Gwyn slowly felt her fear start to lessen. This was the world that she had never been a part of, but had been forced to act as though she was. And now, she was going towards the one place where she could feel as though she belonged.

At least, she hoped.

"I wouldn't worry about everything, dearest," Mrs. Harris told her, patting her on the arm. "You'll have plenty of time to catch up. There are plenty of witches and wizards who come from Muggle families and they do remarkably. It'll be no different for you."

"What if they don't like me?" Gwyn questioned. "Mrs. Harris, I've had exactly one friend in my entire life and Isabelle's mother couldn't even stand the sight of me."

With a small sigh, Mrs. Harris shook her head. "They just couldn't understand why you were different. And there are going to be plenty of boys and girls who are exactly like you, learning the same things you are and enjoying the same things you will. Besides, you already did make a friend. Did you forget about Hermione?"

No, she hadn't forgotten about Hermione, but she wondered if the bushy haired witch had forgotten about her. "Yeah," she agreed, not speaking her doubts. "Yeah, I'm sure it'll be fine."

Still, the butterflies in her stomach refused to leave her alone and kept fluttering around inside.


	6. Heading to Hogwarts

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Six: Heading to Hogwarts

There was nothing that Gwyn could do but stare up at the train after she had gotten onto Platform 9¾ by walking in between Platforms 9 and 10 at Mrs. Harris's direction. At first, she had thought the woman was crazy, but here she was, still alive and standing in front of the train that would take her to her new school and her new life. She could hear people talking to each other as she dragged her trunk onto the train, putting in the compartment hold before heading back off to say goodbye to Mrs. Harris, who was speaking to a red headed woman with a bunch of red headed sons and a red headed little girl about a year or two younger than Gwyn. When Gwyn approached her, she excused herself from the conversation, however.

"Thank you for everything," she said as she hugged the older witch affectionately. Mrs. Harris smiled as she smoothed down Gwyn's blonde hair and tweaked her nose warmly. "Really, I don't know if I would've made it to today without you."

"It was my pleasure to help Aurora's daughter," Mrs. Harris said kindly. "If your mother were here today, she would be very proud of you. I can assure you of that." She paused, considering the young witch carefully. "I'll continue to try and talk to your father, see if I can pound any sense into that thick skull of his. There's something to be said about you Swanns," she commented with a wry smile. "You breed mules."

"Hey!" Gwyn said, annoyed as she pulled away from her guardian. After she'd gotten her new job at the Ministry, she had put in for guardianship of Gwyn for the time being, until her father saw sense. And Gwyn was grateful to her for it, because she didn't think her father was going to be coming around anytime soon.

Mrs. Harris chuckled as she hugged Gwyn tightly. "Don't forget to write, dearest," she told her softly. "Oh, I'm going to miss you. Now, try and stay out of trouble and pay attention to your classes. What else am I forgetting? Oh, yes," she added. "No matter what happens, be yourself."

"I don't know what that means."

"Not yet, but one day you will," Mrs. Harris said with a smile, winking at her as the whistle on the train blew, alerting everyone that they were ready to take off. "Looks like it's time for you to go. Be safe, Gwyn," she said as Gwyn climbed back onto the train, waving goodbye to her guardian as she hung off the train halfway, along with a few other students who were waving goodbye to their families.

When they were out of sight of the station, Gwyn finally pulled herself into the train fully and walked back to the compartment that she had put her stuff in earlier, hardly surprised when she found another student her own age sitting there already, staring out of the window as she knocked on the door, announcing her presence.

She was startled by the glittering green eyes that looked back at her, meeting her blue ones. Never once had she ever seen eyes that colour green before, the exact colour of emeralds. He had messy dark hair that framed his face, which smiled pleasantly.

"Uh . . . hi," she said awkwardly. "Would you mind terribly if I joined you?" she asked, nodding towards her trunk sitting above the seat opposite. He glanced up at it before looking back at her with a smile towards her. "My stuff's already here."

He shook his head. "No, please, come in," he told her politely. Gwyn smiled in relief as she walked further into the compartment, closing the door behind her as she took the seat across from her. She cast a quick look at him, surprised by the familiarity that surged through her as she studied him carefully, vaguely noticing the odd shaped scar that was peeking out underneath his bangs. Had she seen him somewhere before?

"I'm Gwyn," she said at long last, finally forcing some conversation between them. "Gwyn Swann."

"Harry Potter," he answered and she looked at him quickly, recognising the name from Mrs. Harris's story. He looked nervous as he said his name, as though expecting her to start asking question after question.

"Really?" she asked with a smile and he nodded. "That's really weird, there's this famous guy that has the exact same name. Any relation of yours?" she inquired, trying to get him to relax.

She grinned broadly when he started laughing. "No, no relation at all," he answered, the mirth still evident on his face. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," she answered with a shrug. "To be honest, I wouldn't know who you were if it wasn't because one of my mum's friends decided that it was time I knew about all of this. Up until a few months ago, I didn't have the slightest clue about any of this."

"Your parents are Muggles?"

"My dad is," she answered with a shrug. "Muggle father, witch mother. My mum died when I was a kid and . . . well, let's just say that my dad thought I would be better off living away from this world and he wasn't exactly thrilled when he learned that I was going to be coming here."

"I'm sorry." Harry truly looked sympathetic. "About your mum. If it helps . . . I never knew my parents either." Gwyn glanced at him and was surprised by the note of familiarity between them.

"Thanks," she said as she reached across, touching his arm for a minute. "Okay, enough sad talk. This is getting _way_ to depressing." Harry chuckled. She smiled as she pulled her legs up underneath her, resting her head in her hand as she glanced out the window. "How long have you know about all of this anyway? 'Because I'm getting the feeling you know about as much as me."

"I learned about it on my last birthday, when Hagrid came to visit me and gave me my letter," Harry explained. He began to tell her about his relatives, the Dursleys, who looked almost as bad as her father from the way he described them, the letters from Hogwarts that had flew in through the fireplace and them leaving to go find somewhere where the letters couldn't find him, which led to the gamekeeper of Hogwarts Hagrid heading off and finding them on a little island away from everything and Hagrid giving him his letter and giving his cousin Dudley a pig's tail.

Gwyn couldn't help laughing at the image, picturing an overly grown boy who already looked like a pig sprouting a tail on his rear end. The image was priceless. By the time that they had recovered from their laughter, there was a knock on the door and both Harry and Gwyn looked around to see one of the red-headed boys Gwyn had seen before in the doorway.

"Excuse me," he said, looking nervous as he looked between the two of them. "Do you mind? Everywhere else is full?" He nodded towards the two empty seats that were next to both Harry and Gwyn, who caught Harry's eye and gave him an encouraging nod.

Assured that it wasn't a problem with her, Harry smiled and nodded towards the newcomer. "Not at all," he said, waving him in. The red-headed boy looked relieved as he walked into the compartment, shutting the door behind him as he sat down in the seat next to Gwyn.

However, he had barely sat down when the compartment door opened up again and two more of the red-heads, identical twins, appeared in the doorway. "Hey, Ron," one of them said. "Listen, we're going down to the middle of the train—Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," Ron mumbled.

"Harry," the other twin added, looking towards the wizard opposite of Gwyn and Ron, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Wesley and this is our brother Ron. And . . . hello, there," he added, spotting Gwyn next to the window. "I don't believe that we've had the pleasure."

Gwyn couldn't help smiling at him. "I'm Gwyn Swann," she answered. "Nice to meet you."

"Well, hopefully, you're in Gryffindor, we could use some rare beauty around there as opposed to the usual hags that we've managed to survive around for the past two years." The first twin rolled his eyes as they both left the compartment. "See you later, then."

Almost the second that the twins left, Ron turned to Harry and asked immediately, "Are you really Harry Potter?"

Ron seemed ill at ease with them at first, but once the group got to talking, he relaxed around them and was pretty soon talking about his family and how many brothers he had—six, including the two that were both out of the country, having already graduated—and how he always had their old hand-me-downs. Gwyn, being an only child and raised without any cousins or anything, wasn't able to give her sympathies.

They were still talking when the food cart came and Gwyn headed out into the corridor with Harry to go get some food and candy with the money that she had left over from shopping. Neither one of them recognised any of the candy that the woman had, so they bought a little of everything, splitting the cost between them.

Ron stared at the amount of food that they brought back in the compartment, tipping it into an empty seat. "Hungry?" he asked as Gwyn picked up some of the Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Harry nodded as he opened up a pumpkin pastry.

"You're welcome to some, if you want it," Gwyn offered as Harry tossed him a pastry. Ron was reluctant at first, but pretty soon, the group was digging their way through the pasties, cakes, and candies. The sandwiches Ron's mother had made for him lay forgotten as the boys sat on either end of the seats and Gwyn sat across from them.

When Harry opened the Chocolate Frogs, which each contained a card of a famous witch or wizard, he said excitedly, "So this is Dumbledore!" Gwyn peered over his shoulder to see an elderly wizard with half-moon glasses and a crooked nose.

"Don't tell me that you've never heard of Dumbledore!" Ron exclaimed and Gwyn shook her head as she turned to the Frogs, curious about the cards herself. Pretty soon, they were eating their way through the cards and she let Harry have most of the cards, though he insisted that she keep the doubles that he and Ron already had.

From the looks outside, they were passing through a deep forest when a knock came on the compartment door and a round-faced boy came in with Hermione Granger. "Has anybody seen a toad?" she asked, looking towards the group. "Neville here has lost one."

"No," Harry answered as Ron shook his head and Neville burst into tears at this predicament.

"I'm sure that he'll turn up eventually," Gwyn said kindly towards Neville before looking up at Hermione. "Hi, Hermione, how have you been?"

Hermione smiled at her, recognising her from Gringotts. "Hello, Gwyn. I've been well. Oh, are you doing magic?" she asked, noticing that Ron had his wand out. He had been about to perform a spell on his rat Scabbers. "Let's see it then." She waited patiently as Ron looked anxious at the audience.

He gulped as he brandished his wand at Scabbers. "_Sunshine, daises, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow._"

Unfortunately, nothing happened and Hermione frowned at his failed attempt. "Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard—I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough—"

"Guys," Gwyn interrupted as she saw their stunned expressions, "this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Ron and Harry."

"Wait a minute," Hermione said, peering at Harry for a minute. "You're Harry Potter! I know all about you, of course. I got a few extra books for background reading and you're in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"Am I?" Harry inquired, casting a quick, helpless look at Gwyn, as though he hoped she would be able to turn Hermione off.

"Goodness, didn't you know? I'd have found out everything I could if it was me. Do any of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I heard Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad. . . . Anyway, we'd better go look for Neville's toad." She and Neville left the compartment and Gwyn shook her head, bewildered.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," Ron grumbled, shaking his head. "Stupid spell, George gave it to me. I bet he knew it was a dud."

"Maybe it's one of those more advances spells that we have to learn a bit more before using it," Gwyn suggested, trying to cheer him up. Ron didn't look convinced, however, and Harry changed the subject.

"So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?" he asked, looking curious.

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts. Did you two hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the _Daily Prophet_, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles . . . someone tried to rob a high security vault."

Both Harry and Gwyn stared at him in astonishment. From what Gwyn had been told from Mrs. Harris, it was near impossible to even enter Gringotts without one of the goblins knowing about it, let alone trying to steal anything inside of it.

"What happened?" both Harry and Gwyn asked.

"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. It must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get in Gringotts, but it doesn't look like they took anything, which is odd. Of course, everybody gets scared when something like this happens, in case You-Know-Who is behind it."

Gwyn was starting to wonder when they were going to get to the school when Ron started telling them about Quidditch, the wizard sport, and was talking them through the game when the door opened again, but instead of Hermione or Neville, three boys entered.

One of them was small and pale and blond, but the other two were tall and thickset, looking like bodyguards as they stood on either side of the pale boy, who was looking at Harry. "Is it true? They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," Harry said flatly.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle," he said, noticing their attention on the other two boys. "And my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." Ron sniggered and Malfoy turned his attention towards him. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me that the Weasleys all have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

"Hey," Gwyn snapped, coming to Ron's defence as he turned red. "And I would really back off if I were you."

"Thankfully, you're not," Malfoy retorted as he eyed her carefully. "I know who you are, too. You're the Torens' traitorous daughter's spawn." Ron glanced at her in surprise as Gwyn slowly stood up, about to fight him when Malfoy turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Harry ignored Malfoy's outstretched hand as he stared down the pale boy. "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said calmly, moving towards Ron and Gwyn, two outsiders of the wizarding families.

Gwyn moved to back him up as a fight started to brew between the boys, not sure whether to join in or break it up just as Hermione. "What's going on in here?" she asked, looking around them. Malfoy sniffed at her before he left, muttering something about Muggle-borns.

"Who was that?" Gwyn asked, looking at Harry, who immediately explained meeting Malfoy in Diagon Alley, at the robes' shop.

"I've heard of his family," Ron told them. "His family was the first one to come back over to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared, according to Dad. Said they'd been bewitched. Dad doesn't believe it, though, says they don't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side. Can we help you with something?" he asked Hermione.

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front and the conductor says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you?" she demanded. "You'll be in trouble even before we get there!"

"They haven't been fighting," Gwyn told her. She looked at the boys. "I'll wait outside while you guys change, all right?"

She went outside with Hermione, who went to go find Neville and see if he had found his toad, and waited until Harry let her back in and the boys waited outside while she changed, feeling the warmth wash over her as she slipped into her wizarding robes.

Hermione had been right, they were slowing down and pretty soon they were coming to a stop and climbed off of the train to be greeted by a giant of a man who was yelling, "First years! First years over here!"

"That's Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed as they followed Hagrid down a narrow path that was so dark that nobody could see anything in front of them. When they turned a corner, Gwyn let out a soft gasp in surprise and delight as they reached a great lake with a mountain overlooking it. And perched upon the mountain was a magnificent castle, with many turrets and towers.

"No more than four to a boat!" Hagrid called as they headed towards a fleet of little boats waiting for them. Harry, Ron, and Gwyn climbed into one, followed by Hermione and once everybody was in a boat, they shoved off, heading towards the castle. When they reached the bottom of the castle, Hagrid found something that a certain boy had been missing. "Oy, you there! Is this your toad?"

"Trevor!" Neville exclaimed, holding onto his toad as Hagrid handed it to him. They climbed up a flight of stone steps and crowded around a huge, oak front door, where Hagrid knocked on it three times before it opened.

And Gwyn started moving forward into a threshold that would change the course of her destiny forever.


	7. The Sorting

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Seven: The Sorting

When they walked into the castle for the first time, Gwyn felt an extraordinary sense of belonging, as though she was in the right place for the first time in her entire life. She had never felt like this before, never felt as though she had belonged anywhere, but Gwyn knew the moment that she stepped through those doors, she was finally home.

They were greeted by a strict-looking woman that Gwyn guessed, accurately, was Professor McGonagall. Judging from her outward appearance, Gwyn suspected that Mrs. Harris's description of her had been quite right. This was one teacher that she most definitely did not want to get on her bad side, especially if she happened to be sorted into Gryffindor, since she was the head of that house.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said once Hagrid had left them with her. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes swept them carefully and Gwyn shifted under her gaze, feeling as though she had done something wrong. "I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

Gwyn looked towards Ron and Harry, whose hair looked messier than it had before. She guessed that he had tried flattening it and had ended up making it worse. "Okay, remind me not to get on her bad side," she said weakly.

Harry smiled weakly at her comment before turning to Ron. "How exactly do they sort us into houses?"

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking," Ron answered.

Frowning, Gwyn rubbed her arms, suddenly feeling cold and she didn't think it had anything to do with nervousness. "I doubt that they're going to make us do some sort of test in front of the entire school," she said, attempting to convince herself as much as her . . . friends. Gwyn's heart swelled as she thought of that word addressing Harry and Ron. They were friends, weren't they? She hoped so. "Not on our first night here."

Harry weakly laughed. "Yeah, you're probably right," he agreed just as she noticed about twenty ghosts appearing in the hall, talking with one another and not noticing the first years just yet. They were too busy arguing with one another about somebody called Peeves, who apparently had been causing trouble again. Vaguely, Gwyn remembered Mrs. Harris telling her about the school poltergeist.

"What are you all doing here?" a ghost asked, suddenly noticing them. "New students! About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded mutely at the inquiry. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

"Move along now," Professor McGonagall said as she walked back into the hallway. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin." The ghosts obeyed, floating through the wall opposite and she turned to the first years. "Now, form a line and follow me."

Nervousness had set in again as Gwyn trailed in line between Harry and Ron as they entered into the double doors of the Great Hall. Thousands upon thousands of candles floated in midair over four, long rectangle tables that the older students were sitting at. At the head of the hall, another table stood with the teachers sitting. Gwyn glanced skyward to avoid the looks from the other students and saw instead of a ceiling, the hall opened up into the night sky.

Nearby, she could hear Hermione whispering to another student, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History._"

Professor McGonagall led them to the front of the hall and placed a four-legged stool and a very old, patched, dirty wizard's hat in front of them. Gwyn frowned as she stared at it, glancing towards her friends before looking back at the hat.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when the rim opened and the hat began to sing.

_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me. _

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all. _

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be. _

_You might belong in Gryffindor, _

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry, _

_Set Gryffindors apart. _

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil; _

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends. _

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

The rest of the school clapped loudly as the song came to a close before McGonagall stepped forward and the applause died down until it was quiet and still again. Ron whispered to something about killing Fred, but Gwyn could barely hear him, her stomach was tight with nerves. She half-wished that they would start at the end of the alphabet so she wouldn't have to wait so long.

"When I call your name," McGonagall told them, "you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She looked down a long roll of parchment. "Abbott, Hannah!"

Gwyn nervously twirled her blonde hair around her finger, a habit that she did whenever she was nervous as the first years all began to be sorted. Hermione became a Gryffindor when she was called up, as did Neville Longbottom, but Malfoy, the pale boy from the train, became a Slytherin and hat had barely touched his head when he was called. They were getting closer to the end now . . .

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry looked queasy as he stepped forward through the small group that was left and behind them, Gwyn heard people whispering and out of the corner of her eye saw them standing up to get a better look at him. She crossed her fingers for luck.

As Gwyn looked back at Harry, she saw that he was gripping the edges of the tool rather tightly and his jaw was clenched tightly, muttering something that Gwyn couldn't hear and he was too far away for her to read his lips accurately. Finally, the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

With a smile, Gwyn gave Harry a thumbs-up as he took the hat off, giving it back to McGonagall before heading off to the Gryffindor table, grinning wildly as the Gryffindors exploded with cheers and applause. It took several minutes for the Sorting to get underway again.

"Swann, Guinevere!"

Grimacing slightly, Gwyn moved up onto the stool and the last thing she saw before the hat blocked her vision as Harry giving her an encouraging look. She waited, wondering what was going to happen, what she would see or hear.

"Interesting," a voice said in her ear, "very interesting. Quite a kind and loyal heart you've got there, and courage that will set you apart from others, and a rare talent . . . my, my, that's surprising. The lost daughter of Aurora Toren, isn't it? Your mother was a powerful witch, though she chose a difficult path. You could be useful with talents such as these with two different paths, which is it going to be?"

_Anything but Slytherin,_ Gwyn thought. After hearing Ron tell them about Slytherin on the train, she wasn't about to go into a house that had produced some of the darkest witches and wizards around. Besides, she had no doubt that some of her mother's family—if not all—had been in Slytherin. And they had cast her out. She would never follow that path.

"Well, if that your choice, then you'd better be GRYFFINDOR!" The last word was rang out across the hall and the had was lifted off of Gwyn's head as she jumped up to hurry over to the Gryffindor table to join Harry, who grinned happily at her as she sat down next to him, glad that they had ended up in the same house together before she turned to watch the rest of the Sorting, glad that her part in it was over.

There were four people left now, including Ron, who looked like he was about to be sick. When Ron stumbled up onto the stool, Gwyn hoped with all of her heart that he was going to be with them in Gryffindor. Half a second later, the hat answered her hopes. "GRYFFINDOR!"

Ron collapsed onto the table as the last student, Zabini, was made a Slytherin and McGonagall rolled up her scroll, taking the Sorting Hat away and Gwyn finally looked around at the table in front of them. The golden plates seemed to gleam in front of her and everything seemed to shine . . . yes, she decided, this was where she belonged.

When McGonagall had taken her seat next to the headmaster, Dumbledore got to his feet, looking pleased to see the new students. "Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" He sat back down as the food suddenly appeared in front of them as if . . . well, as if by magic.

Gwyn was shocked at the amount of food that had been placed in front of her. She'd never seen so many different foods available in one place before. As the other students began to eat, Gwyn piled up her food and joined in as the ghost sitting nearly watched them, longingly missing the taste of food, introducing himself as Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington—or Nearly Headless Nick—the resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.

"Dinner isn't this grand every night, is it?" Gwyn asked him once she'd gotten over the shock of seeing him nearly beheaded, with an inch or so of skin keeping his head still attached. She tried not to look at it until he'd pulled his head back onto his shoulders.

Sir Nicholas shook his head. "No, this is just for the welcoming feast. It's only like this for the special occasions. The welcoming and leaving feasts, of course, and Halloween, Christmas, and Easter . . ." He ticked them all of on his see-through hand before smiling broadly. "So, new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable. He's the Slytherin house ghost," he added to some of their confusion.

Gwyn finally finished eating and listened as the people around her talked about the Bloody Baron for a few minutes before the food vanished before them, leaving the plates as clean and sparkling as they'd been before. It was barely half a second later when dessert appeared of numerous varieties. A person would have to be very picky in order not to find something that they liked here.

While she helped herself to a few scoops of chocolate ice cream (Belgium chocolate specifically, from the taste of it), the talk turned to families. Seamus Finnigan, one of the first-year Gryffindors, turned out to be the same as her, witch mother, Muggle father. Neville was pure-blood, though it had taken him awhile for his wizardry to show up. Dean Thomas wasn't exactly sure what he was; his mother was a Muggle, but his father had disappeared a long time ago and he couldn't prove that he was a wizard. Gwyn's eyelids were starting to droop as the dessert started to disappear.

Dumbledore stood up and she shook her head, trying to wake herself up to pay attention to the headmaster. "Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest one the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." His eyes flashed towards the Weasley twins, who both grinned sheepishly. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridor.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must inform you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."

Next to her, Harry snorted, but Gwyn frowned slightly at the instructions, a peculiar feeling stirring in the back of her mind, as if something were warning her discreetly of something. A few other students laughed along with Harry, but most of them were looking worried or puzzled.

"He's not serious?" Harry whispered.

"Must be," Percy Weasley, one of Ron's other brothers, said, frowning. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere—the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

After a chorus of the school song, Dumbledore dismissed them and Gwyn got up with Harry and Ron, along with the rest of the Gryffindor first years, to follow Percy, a prefect, out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase. Gwyn's eyes were starting to feel tired again as she climbed the stairs, but she half-noticed that the people that were in the portraits were moving and talking as they followed the group of new Gryffindors. Percy led them up to the Gryffindor Tower, which was hidden behind a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she inquired.

"Caput Draconis," Percy answered and she swung herself forward to admit them. Gwyn climbed in after Harry to find herself in the Gryffindor common room. It was a large, round room that had a sort of cosy feel to it, filled with squashy, red armchairs.

As Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys to another, Gwyn turned to Harry and Ron. "Good night, guys," she said, smiling at them. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Night, Gwyn," Harry said with a smile at her. He looked about as tired as she felt, she noticed.

"Good night," Ron told her as the followed the rest of the Gryffindor boys up to their dormitory and she headed into her own, getting in line behind Lavender Brown.

Gwyn's trunk was at the end of the bed next to the windows and she went to go retrieve her nightgown, heading towards the bathroom to get dressed before climbing into bed. After bidding good night to Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati Patil, she lay back on her bed and fell asleep almost instantly, with dreams of a man with a skull mask plaguing her dreams.


	8. The First Week

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Eight: The First Week

The first week at Hogwarts seemed to fly by, despite the amount of homework that they were receiving and the fact that they could hardly remember where everything was. Part of the problem, Gwyn decided when she, Harry, and Ron were forced to retrace their steps to find the Great Hall a fourth time, was that everything kept moving around. Some of the staircases had vanishing steps which had to be jumped over and there were doors refused to open unless a person were to ask politely or tickled in a certain place. And then there were doors who were just walls pretending to be doors.

And the classes were a lot harder than Gwyn had first thought. Being raised a Muggle, she had been brought up with the delusion that magic was just saying rhymes and strange things occurred or waving her wand, but it turned out that it was a lot harder than just that.

Astronomy was by far one of the hardest classes, which took place during the night, where they had to study the sky, learning the names of different stars and planets under Professor Sinistra's teaching. Although it strained her brain a little, Gwyn enjoyed the class.

Herbology was taught by Professor Sprout and took place in the greenhouse three times a week. Gwyn found learning how to take care of all of the strange plants and fungus a bit tiresome.

By far, the easiest class was History of Magic, taught by the ghost of Professor Binns. He had a low, droning voice that made everybody in the classroom fall asleep within ten minutes, at best. Gwyn, after the first two classes with him, finally gave up trying to learn it and just spent the class copying down the main points in her notes and then going into finer detail later, when she read the material.

As she had predicted, Gwyn thoroughly enjoyed Charms class, which was by far her favourite. Professor Flitwick was a tiny wizard that was only half of Gwyn's size and she was one of the shortest girls in the first years.

Gwyn had been right when she hadn't wanted to get on Professor McGonagall's bad side. Almost the second that they arrived in their first Transfiguration class, she gave them a strict lecture. "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my classroom will leave and not come back. You have been forewarned."

Then she impressed the class by changing the desk into a pig and then back again, but Gwyn realised that they weren't going to be changing furniture into animals for a very long time. McGonagall gave them a long and complicated lecture, which involved a lot of note-taking, before giving them a match, which they were to turn into a needle. Hermione was the only one who was able to change hers by the end of the lesson.

Professor Quirrell was the only teacher that Mrs. Harris hadn't told Gwyn about. The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was a pale man who was probably in his early twenties, who wore a turban wherever he went. Although everyone who'd gone into the classroom had been excited, they were supremely disappointed.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked Friday morning as they sat at the Gryffindor breakfast table, enormously cheerful and for pretty good reason. They'd managed to get to the Great Hall without getting lost . . . which was a first for them.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron answered as he glanced down at his schedule. "Snape's head of Slytherin House. They say he always favours them . . . we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favoured us," Harry said wistfully. Gwyn chuckled, but shook her head.

"She might not favour us, but I like her well enough," she said, shrugging. "I think she's just strict because she knows how hard Transfiguration is and wants us to do well in it."

Ron shook his head. "Do you always believe the best in people?"

"No," Gwyn answered, shaking her head as the mail arrived. Thousands of owls flying around the Great Hall, searching for the recipient of the mail, had startled Gwyn the first morning, but after five days of it, she had gotten used to it. Mrs. Harris had sent her a congratulations note after she'd written to tell her about getting sorted into Gryffindor and how her first classes had gone. Since she hadn't said anything about her father, Gwyn guessed that he was completely resolved about not mending the wounds between them. Gwyn pretended that his rejection didn't hurt, but it did.

As she dug into her cereal, Gwyn looked towards Harry as he received a letter from Hagrid. She hadn't officially met the gamekeeper apart from seeing him when they arrived, but had heard nothing but good things about him from Harry and a few of the older students.

"Hagrid wants me to come for tea this afternoon," he explained. "You guys want to come?" Gwyn nodded eagerly and Ron verbally answered his affirmation before Harry sent an answer back with his owl Hedwig and sent her to go give the note to Hagrid. Gwyn glanced down at her watch as she finished her cereal.

"Come on," she said briskly as she picked up her bag that was laying next to her. "We're going to be late and I'd rather not test that 'Snape hates all Gryffindors' theory that I've heard so much about." The boys finished their breakfast quickly as they grabbed their bags and headed down to the dungeons, where their Potions class was about to take place.

Gwyn took a seat next to her friends as the class started. Snape was a tall wizard with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. His eyes travelled to look at Gwyn and Harry almost instantly and Gwyn was suddenly reminded of Mrs. Harris's warning about Snape, that he might dislike her because of something her mother had done years ago.

But whatever that was, he chose not to acknowledge her as he called roll, stopping at Harry's name. "Ah, yes," he said softly, turning his attention back to Harry. "Mr. Potter. Our new—celebrity." Gwyn noticed Harry's jaw harden as she reached underneath the table to squeeze his hand reassuringly and he relaxed slightly as Snape finished the roll call.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact of potion-making," he told them, managing with little to no effort to keep the class silent with just his scary, frightening presence. "As there is little wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect many of you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the sense . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Gwyn thought that all of this sounded rather interesting. Potions sounded a lot more fun than some of her other classes, even if the teacher seemed like he was ready to poison them all if they did one little thing wrong. Apart from Snape, she thought she was going to enjoy the class.

"Potter!" Snape barked, surprising most of the students and making Harry jump next to her. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry looked bewildered and looked at her helplessly, but Gwyn shook her head. She thought she remembered something about that in her Potions book, but she couldn't remember it off of the top of her head. Hermione hand shot into the air as Harry said, "I don't know, sir."

Snape looked triumphant as he sneered at Harry. "Pity . . . clearly, fame isn't everything. Let's try again," he added, ignoring Hermione's waving hand. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape most definitely looked triumphant now. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Hermione was standing up by this time, trying to get Snape's attention. "I don't know," Harry said again, starting to look angry, "but I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Gwyn covered her mouth to hide a smile as a few people laughed around them. Snape didn't look happy at the comeback. "Sit down," he snarled at Hermione, who reluctantly sat back down, lowering her hand. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of the Living Dead. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite." He kept his eye on Harry as he spoke to the rest of the class. "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

Fighting the urge to do something violent to the Potions Master, Gwyn retrieved her quill and began writing everything down that he'd said into her Potions notes as Snape informed the Gryffindors that a point would be taken from their house for their classmate's cheek.

Once they had copied down some notes, Snape divided them into pairs and had them start on an uncomplicated potion for curing boils. Gwyn was paired with Hermione and the two girls set to work on the potion. Hermione was grumbling about the loss of point that Harry had cost them.

"It's just one point, Hermione," Gwyn said softly as she stirred the potion, as per the instructions. "And anyway, I didn't even know any of the questions and I read the book before I came here. Not all of us have perfect memories and can memorise the books word-for-word," she pointed out at Hermione's incredulous look.

Hermione's angry look slowly faded and she gave in. "Oh, I suppose, but he didn't have to be so rude to Professor Snape about it," she complained. "Honestly, talking that way to a teacher . . ."

"I was about to lose my temper," Gwyn said, shrugging as Hermione added the crushed snake fangs while Snape swept around the dungeons, criticizing most of their work. Malfoy seemed to be the only person that he seemed to like.

Just as Snape was complimenting the alleged perfect potion Malfoy had brewed, a loud hissing filled the dungeons and Gwyn, acting on instinct, pulled herself onto the stool she was on, pulling her robes up off of the ground as a potion spread across the floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Pretty soon, everyone had followed Gwyn's example and climbed up onto their stools while Neville had gotten drenched in the potion he'd managed to explode while destroying Seamus' cauldron, turning it into a twisted blob.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled, waving his wand to clear it away. Once it was gone, Gwyn climbed back down, heading towards Neville to make sure that he was all right. Poor Neville, she thought as she helped him stand up. Boils were starting to appear on his nose. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off of the fire?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Seamus. "Take him up to the hospital wing. Swann, get back to your seat at once!" Gwyn clenched her fist inside her robes but headed back to her and Hermione's table. "You, Potter, why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Harry, who had been sitting next to Neville and Seamus along with Ron, opened his mouth, about to argue against the injustice, but Ron stopped him, whispering something that Gwyn couldn't hear halfway across the room. "Fridays are going to be a long morning," she sighed to Hermione, who said nothing, just looked disapprovingly at Gwyn as the class continued. By the time that they were free to leave, an hour later, Gwyn had never been more relieved to escape from a class—especially a class that she'd originally been under the impression she'd enjoy.

As they headed away from the dungeons, Harry was thoroughly depressed about losing the two points. "Don't worry about it, Harry," Gwyn tried to cheer him up. "I doubt that two measly points are going to cost us the house cup. Besides, he could've taken off a lot more."

"He's a git," Ron told Harry reassuringly. "Cheer up. Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Come on, I want to go meet Hagrid already."

"Well, personally, I kind of liked Potions," Gwyn admitted. When both boys gave her incredulous looks, she shrugged. "I don't mean I liked Snape, but the class itself I liked. If it was with a different teacher, then I'd probably look more forward to it."

"It would probably be better," Harry acknowledged as they left the castle and headed towards a small wooden house next to the forest and he knocked on the door.

"Hang on a second!" Hagrid called from behind the door as they heard barking and scratching on the other side of the door. "Back, Fang." He let them inside, keeping a firm hold on an enormous black boarhound. "Make yerselves at home," he told them as he released Fang, who tackled Ron, licking him affectionately.

"This is Ron and Gwyn," Harry introduced them as Hagrid started making the tea and placed some cakes that looked about as hard as rocks onto a plate as he set it on the table.

"Another Weasley, eh?" Hagrid inquired as he glanced at Ron. "I spent half of me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest." Ron grinned weakly and Hagrid chuckled before looking at Gwyn. "And yeh must be Aurora Toren's girl. I remember when she was here . . . sweet, charmin' girl she was," he said reminiscently.

"Thank you," Gwyn said with a smile up at him. Already, she liked Hagrid. The rock cakes just about broke her teeth, but all three of them pretended to enjoy them as they talked about their first week.

Gwyn was grateful when he told Harry not to pay attention to Snape and that he hardly liked any of the students. "But he really seemed to hate me," Harry insisted.

"Rubbish!" Hagrid protested, shaking his big, shaggy head. "Why would he?" But there was something that made Gwyn glance at him as he said that and noticed that he wasn't exactly looking at any of them as he said it. Not only that, but he quickly changed the subject to talk about Ron's brother Charlie, working with dragons.

Harry picked up a clipping that was lying nearby and read it carefully while Gwyn listened to the discussion about the dragons. It would be interesting to see a dragon, she thought, but she didn't think that she'd like to work with them. Sounded too dangerous.

"Hagrid!" Harry said suddenly as he finished reading. "That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It could've happened while we were there!"

But Hagrid refused to look at them as he offered more rock cakes and Gwyn wondered if there was more going on about the break-in than any of them knew about . . . and if there were some people around them that _did_ know what it was about.


	9. Flying and Challenges

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Nine: Flying and Challenges

Gwyn was climbing down the steps coming from the girls' dormitories as she was pulling her blonde hair back away from her face into a ponytail, searching absently for Harry and Ron. Spotting them by the notice board, she headed over their, wondering what had caused the dark look on Harry's face as she approached them.

"Typical," Harry said just as she walked up behind them, tightening the ponytail. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

"What are you talking about?" Gwyn asked, bewildered and Harry pointed towards the notice that they were looking at. She followed his gaze and read the sign on the board. This week, they would be starting flying lessens and the Gryffindors were going to be learning with the Slytherins. Gwyn sighed; up until now, they had only had Potions with Slytherins, which had been blissful, considering that the Slytherin House seized every possible opportunity to make the Gryffindors look bad.

"Oh," she said, wincing. "Okay, you don't know that you're going to make a fool of yourself. Maybe you'll actually be pretty good. Harry, why don't you wait until Thursday to start worrying?" she suggested. "It's four days away, do you really want to start worrying about it now?"

"No," Harry admitted, cracking a smile.

"Listen to the girl," Ron said with a laugh, smirking at her. Gwyn did the mature thing and stuck her tongue out at the redheaded wizard. "Anyway, she's right about the flying thing. Besides, I don't think that Malfoy's even really that good at Quidditch. It's probably all just talk." Gwyn nodded in agreement, placing a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, from what I've heard, Malfoy isn't that good of a Quidditch player," she told him gently. They both looked at her curiously and she shrugged. "The girls' bathroom," she explained with a shrug. "You want to learn anything that happens around the school, you can get the information there."

"That's highly disturbing," Ron muttered as they headed towards breakfast. Flying lessons had brought up the Quidditch talk at the Gryffindor table, which Gwyn listened to until Hermione started talking about all the firing tips that she'd gotten out of a book from the library. She liked Hermione well enough, but there were times when she needed to relax just a little bit. Even she gave a silent sigh of relief when the mail arrived, interrupting Hermione's lecture on flying.

The week seemed to speed by with the apprehension of flying lessons on the horizon and pretty soon, they were heading out towards where the lessons were going to be, on the grounds. Slytherin House was already there, along with twenty or more broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground.

"Great, the school brooms," Ron mumbled. "I heard Fred and George talking about them," he explained. "They're supposed to be really bad. Some of them start to vibrate if you fly too high or some of them fly slightly to the left all the time."

"Well, we're just learning, I don't think that we're going to be need a super advanced broom just yet," Gwyn muttered. She wasn't really nervous about flying, but she did prefer to have both feet on the ground. She had never even been in a plane before.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" The teacher, Madam Hooch, had arrived. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." Everyone hurried to stand on one side of a broom. "Stick out your right hand over your broom," Madam Hooch instructed, "and say 'Up!'"

"Up!" Gwyn shouted, along with the rest of the class. Her broom had hovered slightly in the air before it finally, after she said 'up' a third time, moved into her hand. Harry's had jumped into his at once, while Ron's had hit him in the face before he managed to get a hand on it. Hermione's had rolled all over the ground.

Once everybody had gotten a hold of their brooms, Madam Hooch demonstrating them how to mount it properly, walking up and down the rows, showing those who had it wrong the right way that they were supposed to be doing it.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," Madam Hooch instructed. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle . . . three, two—"

But before she could get to three, Neville had accidentally kicked off from the ground and the broom spun out of control, despite Madam Hooch yelling at him to get back down. Gwyn could see his frightened face as he hit one of the castle walls and fell off the broom, falling and hitting the ground while the broomstick flew towards the forbidden forest, never to be seen again.

Madam Hooch hurried over to the fallen student, checking for injuries. Gwyn heard something about a broken wrist as she helped him up, looking towards the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come along, dear," she added kindly to Neville, who sniffled as he left with her.

Almost the second that they were out of sight, Malfoy started jeering about Neville. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Parvati snapped as the rest of the Slytherins roared with laughter.

"Sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy Parkington asked, smirking at Parvati. "Never though you would like fat little cry-babies, Parvati." Gwyn's hands clenched together as Malfoy snatched something off of the grass.

"Hey, look," he said, holding up the Remembrall that Neville's grandmother had sent to him a few days ago to help him remember stuff that he continually forgot. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

"Give that here, Malfoy," Harry said quietly, moving forward to face Malfoy, who turned to face him. Gwyn quickly headed towards them to back Harry up, Ron right behind her.

Malfoy's eyes gleamed as he gave Harry a smirk. "I think I'm going to leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find," he told Harry as he climbed onto his broom and took off. "How about on the roof?"

"I thought you said that he couldn't fly well," Ron complained to Gwyn, who winced as she shrugged. It was true, the rumours hadn't exactly done justice; Malfoy could fly reasonably well.

"Uh, Harry, that might not be such a good idea," Gwyn said as Harry grabbed his broom, ready to take off after Malfoy as she grabbed his arm. He gave her a look that told her that it wasn't going to do any good. With a sigh, she released his arm. "Be careful," she warned him as he kicked off from the ground and he took off.

She could hardly believe her eyes as she saw the graceful and skilful way he flew, as though he had been doing it for years. Ron let out an admiring whoop as he watched Harry. Gwyn clasped her hands together in worry as she watched the two boys circle around each other before Malfoy threw the glass ball into the air and Harry flew towards the ground to catch it before it hit the ground. He was hardly a foot above the ground when he caught it, pulling up and landing carefully onto the ground at the same time as Professor McGonagall had arrived.

"HARRY POTTER!" she shouted, startling all of them as they looked towards the head of Gryffindor house. She was hurrying towards the group as Harry stood up, his face pale as he saw McGonagall. "Never," she whispered, "in all my time at Hogwarts . . . how dare you! You might have broken your neck—"

"But it wasn't exactly his fault, Professor—" Gwyn tried to intervene on Harry's behalf, but McGonagall cut her off.

"Be quiet, Miss Swann," she snapped. "Potter, follow me, now." Harry slowly moved past Gwyn and Ron, not looking at either of them as he followed McGonagall up into the castle. Gwyn could do nothing but look helplessly after her friend as he headed towards his fate.

If Madam Hooch noticed Harry's disappearance by the time she got back, she didn't comment on it. They just continued the lesson.

Gwyn could hardly pay attention to the lesson, she was too worried about what was going to happen to Harry. If he got expelled just because he'd been trying to get Neville's Remembrall back . . . well, she'd go straight to the headmaster and talk to him about it. Dumbledore seemed to be reasonable, from what she'd heard.

Her anxiety probably affected her flying, because she nearly crashed into Parvati two times, stopping just in time to prevent the crash, though Parvati sent her death glares both times. Ron looked just as worried as she was, but it hadn't affected his flying. Of course, it wasn't his first time on a broom, so that probably had something to do with it.

Finally, the lesson came to a close and Gwyn headed up to the castle to search for Harry. "I'm gonna go check the common room and if he's not there, I'm gonna start on the Transfiguration homework," Ron told her as he left.

"Okay," Gwyn said vaguely as she wandered through the castle. There was no point in going to the common room; her homework was already finished and she was too worried to just sit around and imagine what had happened. There was no way that she'd be able to just sit still around the common room, anyway.

As she rounded the corner of a corridor, Gwyn caught a glint of gold coming from a particular room and wandered into the room, finding herself in an elaborate room filled with trophies from years past. Ambling through the room, Gwyn stopped in front of a particular trophy when a familiar name caught her eye.

_Aurora Toren_

_Gryffindor Chaser_

"Mum?" Gwyn whispered in surprise as she stared down at the award, astonishment rising through her. She reached out and touched the glass the protected the medal. A small smile spread across her face; this was the proof sitting right in front of her. Her mother had been here, had walked these very halls, had maybe been standing right here, right where she was when they had put the medal into the case.

Her mother had played Quidditch, she realised as she stared at the Quidditch Cup that lay behind the names of all the players, stating which position they played.

Further astonishment filled through her as she saw the name of the Gryffindor Seeker: James Potter.

"Blimey," she muttered, hardly able to form a coherent thought. Her mother and Harry's dad had played on the same team together and had won the Cup together. And now, the son and daughter were friends with one another. It was almost surreal.

Gwyn sighed as she touched the glass once again, turning around to find Filch, the caretaker, standing behind her with his cat, Mrs. Norris. He scowled at the first year. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

He eyed her suspiciously. "Well, then get back to your common room where you belong! Off with you!"

Not wasting any time to get out of the caretaker's way, Gwyn hurried out of the trophy room, but didn't bother going to the common room; she continued to search for Harry, not only to make sure he wasn't expelled, but to show him what she'd found.

Eventually, dinner came and with no sign of Harry, Gwyn finally went down to dinner, surprised when she found Harry and Ron sitting together at the table and looking happy. "Oh, thank goodness!" she exclaimed as she took a seat next to them. "I've been looking all over for you."

"She was scared to death that you'd been expelled," Ron told Harry, smirking. Then he turned to Gwyn. "Harry made the Quidditch team," he told her matter-of-factly.

Gwyn blinked; first years were never allowed to play on the teams. They had to wait until second year to start playing for their house. "But . . . but you . . . I thought . . . how did you . . .?" she asked, unable to form a complete thought and Harry grinned.

"Yeah, McGonagall took me up to Wood, the Gryffindor captain, and told him that she'd found him a Seeker. I'm gonna start training next week. But you guys can't tell anyone, all right?" he added in a quieter voice. "Wood wants to keep it a secret."

"Don't worry, I won't," Gwyn promised. "But you're not going to believe what I found—"

She was cut off from telling Harry about the Quidditch trophy she'd found by Malfoy, who walked up from behind them with Crabbe and Goyle as his bodyguards. "Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"Don't you go anywhere without your girlfriends?" Gwyn said wryly, glancing towards the two bigger boys.

"Shut your mouth, you half-blood spawn," Malfoy retorted, giving her a dirty look before returning his attention to Harry.

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," Harry remarked coolly. Gwyn stifled a smile; Crabbe and Goyle were certainly having their egos bruised today. First by her calling them girls and then Harry calling them little. She almost felt sorry for them. Almost.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," Malfoy countered. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only—no contact. What's the matter?" he asked, seeing Harry and Gwyn's confused expressions. "Never heard of a wizard's duel, I suppose?"

"Of course they have," Ron shot back, turning around to face Malfoy. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Malfoy glanced at his "friends" before looking back at Ron. "Crabbe," he answered. "Midnight, all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room. That's always unlocked." He walked away before they could respond and Gwyn looked at Ron, as did Harry.

"What is a wizard's duel?" Harry wanted to know. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," Ron answered as he began eating the pie. "But people only die in proper duels," he added, seeing Harry's expression. "The most you and Malfoy will be able to is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"What if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him in the nose," Gwyn answered automatically. "In fact, do it anyway."

Both boys laughed just as Hermione walked up behind them. "Excuse me," she said politely. "I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying and you mustn't go wandering the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught and you're bound to be. It's really selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," Harry said shortly.

"Goodbye," Ron said. Hermione gave them both a withering look before shooting an imploring look towards Gwyn, as though expecting her to set them straight before she walked away.

Harry looked towards Gwyn. "Anyway, what were you saying before Malfoy came up?"

"Just something that I found in the trophy room earlier," Gwyn answered, standing up. "Come on, you won't believe it."

Both Harry and Ron got up and followed her out of the Great Hall and through the many corridors that they'd gotten used to by now. When they reached the trophy room, she pulled open the door and led Harry straight to the trophy she'd found, pointing.

"Dad's trophy," Harry whispered as he saw it, astonishment filling through his face.

"Not only that," Gwyn said, smiling, "but it turns out that your dad and my mum played on the team together."


	10. The Forbidden Corridor

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Ten: The Forbidden Corridor

"Forget it."

"Come on, there's no reason for you to go."

"Quit being so stubborn, Harry Potter," Gwyn snapped as they were in heading towards the common room late that night. "I'm going with you."

"What, don't you trust me enough to be able to beat Malfoy?" Harry shot back, looking a little insulted.

"It's not you I don't trust," Gwyn responded, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. "It's Malfoy and besides, if you get caught, then I'm taking the fall with you. There's no way that I'm just going to let one of the first real friends that I've ever had go off to face his archenemy without me." She folded her arms stubbornly across her chest, daring him to fight her.

"I'll have Ron with me," Harry said almost helplessly as the redhead smothered his laughter while they climbed down the steps. "Gwyn, seriously, this could be dangerous."

"Exactly why I'm going."

They had spent almost the entire evening like this, her insisting that she was going with the boys when they went to go meet Malfoy and Harry telling her that it could be too dangerous for her there. In between the disagreement, Ron had been giving Harry helpful advice about how to block spells—or rather just dodge them.

"Besides, if you happen to get caught, and there's a pretty good chance that you will," Gwyn added, "then I'll be able to cover for you." She grinned. "The teachers like _me_." Both boys laughed as they headed into the common room. Everyone else was already in bed, so the common room was dark and empty and still.

Which was why they had been startled so badly when a voice spoke up from the darkness. "I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry."

They turned around to find a light being turned on and Hermione sitting in an armchair with both arms folded across her chest, looking disapprovingly. "And honestly, Gwyn," she added, looking towards the blonde, "I thought you knew better than this."

"Hey, I'm all for keeping to the rules," Gwyn said with a shrug, "but if you ask me, Malfoy deserves whatever he gets."

Hermione's frown deepened as she looked at Ron now. "I almost told your brother. Percy—he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

Gwyn inwardly sighed, wondering when Hermione was going to stop all this nonsense about breaking the rules. If rules weren't meant to be broken, then they wouldn't make them rules in the first place. Sometimes, risks were necessary.

Of course, sneaking off to the trophy room to fight a spoiled rich kid who was badly in need of getting his nose rearranged wasn't exactly necessary, but that was beside the point.

"Come on," Harry said, pushing open the portrait of the Fat Lady and leading Gwyn and Ron out of the Tower, with Hermione right behind them, jabbering on the entire time.

"Don't you _care_ about Gryffindor? Do you _only_ care about yourselves? _I_ don't want Slytherin to win the house cup and you're going to lose all of those points that I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells," she ranted.

"Go away," Ron snapped at her.

"Fine," Hermione shot back, "but I warned you. You just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so—" She stopped talking when she found the portrait empty behind her. "Now what am I going to do?" she demanded.

"That's your problem," Ron told her. "We've got to go, we're going to be late." Gwyn shoved her hands into her pockets as they headed through the corridors, only to be caught up with Hermione a moment later, who insisted that they would go with them, so they could tell the teachers that they were breaking rules and she was only going to stop them. Ron was just telling her off when Harry shushed them, finding Neville outside on the floor, asleep.

"Nev?" Gwyn said gently, waking him. "Neville, wake up, what are you doing out here?"

He blinked as he woke up, then brightened at the sight of them. "Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get to bed."

"It's pig snout," Harry told him. "And keep your voice down. But the password isn't going to do much good now. The Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."

"Your arm okay?" Gwyn inquired, looking towards where the injury had been, but there was no sign that it had even been hurt to begin with. She marvelled at medics of the magical world.

Eventually, Neville joined them and they headed towards the trophy room, expecting to run into Filch or Mrs. Norris, but they were extremely lucky, reaching the trophy room without suspicion and Gwyn waited anxiously for Malfoy and Crabbe to arrive, wondering what was taking them so long. Just as Ron was suggested Malfoy had chickened out, Gwyn heard footsteps in the hallway, along with a faint meowing.

Gwyn turned wide-eyed at Harry. "Quick!" she hissed at him, motioning to the others. "It's Filch! Come on, hurry!" They ran out of the room as silently as they could to get away from the caretaker.

She almost cursed both Ron and Neville when they ran into a suit of armour, but resisted the effort as she yanked Neville to his feet, pushing him ahead of them before helping Ron. They were near the Charms classroom, miles away from the trophy room, when they managed to get to a stop.

"I told you," Hermione said, panting, "Malfoy tricked you. You realise that, don't you? He was never going to meet you—Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room. Malfoy must have tipped him off."

"Hermione," Gwyn said, her patience running thin. "Shut up." The bushy haired witch's mouth dropped open and everyone stared at Gwyn in amazement. Not one of them had ever heard her speak like that to anyone. "We have enough problems right now, so could we please, _please_ save the 'I told you so's for later?" Without waiting for an answer, she strode down the hall to figure out how to get to the Tower from here.

"Let's go," Harry said to the others as he hurried to catch up with Gwyn. "Never thought you could be such a tiger," he said admiringly as they ran into Peeves in the next corridor.

The one thing that could possibly make the night worse—and could ensure that they were going to get caught—and it happened to them. Peeves gave a squeal of delight the moment that he saw them. "Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naught, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves," Harry protested, pleading with the poltergeist. "Please."

"Should tell Filch, I should," Peeves mused, sounding as though he were trying to do the right thing, but his eyes were glittering too mischievously for them to take it seriously. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Is there any point in threatening to strangle a poltergeist?" Gwyn mumbled under her breath while Ron moved forward, taking a swipe through Peeves angrily.

This turned out to be one of the top of the badly made choices that had happened that day. Peeves pulled himself out of the way and shrieked at the top of his lungs, making the entire castle echo with his voice. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED IN DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

"I am not going to leave this castle in seven years until I have cursed that stupid poltergeist until the end of his . . . undying days," Gwyn hissed as they ran right to the end of the corridor and slammed into a door, which turned out to be locked.

"This is it!" Ron groaned as they all pushed on the door, trying to get it to open, but it refused to budge. "We're done for! This is the end!"

Gwyn wanted to protest this statement, but as she could hear Filch's footsteps drawing nearer, there was no point in denying what Ron was saying as true.

Hermione finally let out a grunt of annoyance and pushed them out of the way, grabbing Harry's wand as she did so, tapping the lock. "_Alohomora!_" she whispered and the locked clicked open, allowing them inside and they ran inside, shutting it behind them and listened to whatever was going on in the corridor they'd just left.

At least, the other four were. Gwyn had noticed the moment that they had entered the corridor where exactly that they were and her blood had frozen, preventing her from moving. "Harry," she whispered, trying to get his attention, but he was focused on what was going on outside. "Harry . . ."

"Shh!" he whispered, not paying attention, but Neville looked at her, wondering why she was trying to get his attention and his eyes went wide as he saw the enormous, three headed dog that was standing behind them, sniffing towards them in surprise. They must have caught it off guard, which was why it hadn't attacked them just yet. But the surprise was starting to lose its affect and she knew they would be running for their lives any second now.

"He thinks this door is locked," Harry suddenly whispered, not having noticed the danger just yet. "I think we'll be okay—get off, Neville! What?" he asked, turning around and froze when he saw what exactly Neville had been tugging on his sleeve for and why Gwyn had been trying to get his attention.

This was the third floor, she realised as her brain slowly began to start functioning again. The third floor corridor on the right hand side, the one that was forbidden to students.

"RUN!" Harry yelled, grabbing her arm and rendering her mobile again as they plunged out through the door, taking off like a rocket the second that they were free, slamming the door shut behind them.

None of them stopped running, barely even looked behind them, as they raced through the corridors, not even seeing Filch anywhere. He must have taken off to look for them after he hadn't found them on the third floor. When they reached the Fat Lady on the seventh floor, where the Tower was, she was back from visiting other portraits.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she inquired and Gwyn imagined what they had to look like, their robes hanging off of their shoulders and gasping for breath.

"Never mind that—pig snout, pig snout," Harry gasped and she swung herself forward to admit them into the common room.

Gwyn barely made it to one of the chairs as she collapsed into it. Tabby had wandered into the common room, looking for his mistress, jumping onto her lap, meowing contently as she held him against her, stroking his soft fur comfortingly. She just wasn't sure who she was comforting—herself or Tabby.

When she had calmed down enough, she looked towards the others. Harry looked like he couldn't believe what they had just seen. Hermione was frightened and shocked. Ron was incredulous and Neville looked like he wasn't going to be able to speak for a very long time.

"What do you think they're doing?" Ron demanded after silence had stretched through the common room for several long minutes. "Keeping a thing like that locked up in a school? If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Hermione stood up, her temper back as she glared at Ron. "You don't use your eyes, do you? Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor? I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads," Harry answered, shrugging.

"No, _not_ the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." She stood up, glaring at Gwyn, Harry, and Ron respectively. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves We could all have been killed—or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed." Turning around so fast that her bushy hair swept the air behind her, Hermione stalked up the staircase and headed into the girls' dormitory.

Ron's mouth was opened as he gawked at her. "No, we don't mind," he said mockingly. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?"

Harry didn't answer him; he looked as though he were thinking about something as Gwyn looked at him. Neville mumbled something about getting to bed and climbed up the stairs to the boys' dorms, shutting the door behind him and leaving the three friends alone.

Finally, Harry looked towards Gwyn, pulling himself out of his thoughts as he looked at her worriedly, the way that she was holding Tabby. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked her and she nodded.

"I'm not a big fan of dogs," she admitted. "I almost got attacked by one when I was a kid."

"At least your brother didn't turn your teddy bear into a spider while you were holding it," Ron told her unsympathetically. Both Harry and Gwyn glared at him and he shrugged. "Hey, I haven't been able to stand spiders ever since Fred did that."

Gwyn rolled her eyes before turning towards Harry. "So what's up?" she asked. "You look like you might know something."

He looked at them. "I need to tell you guys something," he said.


	11. Foe to Friend

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Eleven: Foe to Friend

The break-in that had occurred at Gringotts that they had learned about first from Ron and then from the clipping from Hagrid's cabin turned out to be at the very same vault that Harry had visited with Hagrid on the day that Hagrid took him to Diagon Alley to do his school shopping. And Hagrid had taken something out of one of the vaults, something that was said to be Hogwarts business, very secret. Harry believed that whatever it was the Hagrid had taken from the vault was what the three-headed dog was guarding.

"But what could it possible be?" Gwyn wondered as they headed towards the Great Hall the following morning for breakfast. "What would need such heavy protection?"

"Well, it's either got to be really valuable or really dangerous," Ron suggested.

"Or both," Harry pointed out. The only thing that he could tell them about the object was that it was about two inches long, which wasn't much to go by and without further clues, they didn't have much of a chance of finding out what it was.

Hermione wasn't speaking to any of them at the moment, which was a shame, because she was the only person in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory that she could talk to. Having boys for her best friends was all very well, but sometimes, it was nice having a girl to talk to.

Gwyn sat down on the breakfast table, pouring some cereal into a bowl as she reread her Charms essay before they had to turn it into Professor Flitwick later that day as the mail started to arrive. She glanced up as a letter dropped onto her empty bowl from Mrs. Harris.

_Gwyn, _

_I was very glad to hear that you'd been sorting into Gryffindor. Your mother would be very proud of you if she could see you today. With some training, you may turn out to be just as extraordinary witch as she was! _

_By the way, yesterday I received the paperwork for becoming your guardian. William wasn't happy when I had to go over to get his signature to validate them, but he didn't need much persuasion, dearest. I'm sorry. But I'm happy to have you around as long as you like. You are always welcome at my home, Gwyn. _

_However, I am going to be going to America for the Christmas holidays to spend it with my sister. I've wrote to her and she says that you're more than welcome to come, but from your letters, I'm guessing that you would prefer to spend them at school with your friends. (Give my best to Harry and Ron, will you?) Whatever you decide to do for the holidays will be fine with me. Just let me know what you decide. _

_With love_

_Madeline Harris_

Gwyn smiled faintly; she hadn't been expecting to think about the Christmas holidays just yet when it was barely October, but she knew that Mrs. Harris liked to plan things ahead. She was pretty sure that she'd stay here, but she would wait a bit to see what her friends' plans were before deciding.

"What's that?" she asked, suddenly noticing that Harry had received a package and he handed the note to her, grinning happily. She took it and read the note carefully. It was from Professor McGonagall, telling him that it was his new broom and that the captain, Oliver Wood, would meet him at seven o'clock for his first training session.

"Come on, let's go unwrap it in the dormitory," Ron said excitedly and they all finished their breakfast quickly before heading up to the Tower to unwrap the broomstick. Gwyn hadn't seen a broomstick before, apart from the ones during flying lessons, so she was eager to see what a brand new one looked like.

Unfortunately, they were intercepted by Malfoy and his lackeys, who had seen the package in the Great Hall. Malfoy grabbed it from Harry, trying to figure out what it was from feeling the package. Jealous and rage reaped across his face as he thrust it back towards Harry. "That's a broomstick. You'll be in for it this time, Potter. First years aren't allowed them."

"It's not any old broomstick," Ron mocked him. "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy? A Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned. "Comets might look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy shot back. "I suppose you and your brother have to save up twig by twig."

Before the fight could continue up again—which Gwyn wasn't sure if she was going to break up or join in—Flitwick suddenly appeared beside them. "Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he asked. "Miss Swann?"

Gwyn shook her head with a smile at her favourite teacher. "No, Professor, we were just having a mild disagreement, weren't we?" she asked, giving them all her best smile. Harry and Ron nodded. "And now that it's over, we'll best be moving along."

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," Malfoy said, still attempting to get them into trouble.

"Yes, yes, that's right," Flitwick agreed. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances. Which model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," Harry said. Gwyn was having a hard time controlling her laughter as he said, "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it."

Gwyn pulled both of her friends away from the group as they hurried up the stairs, eager to get away from Malfoy and so they could spill their laughter. Once they were two floors up, they all started laughing helplessly until they recovered. "Well, it's true," Harry said while Gwyn was still giggling. "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall, I wouldn't be on the team . . ."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" Hermione asked as she walked up behind them. She eyed the package in Harry's hands with disapproval.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us," Harry reminded her.

"Yes, don't stop now," Ron added as Gwyn tried to get them, once again, to get along. Which wasn't much use, considering that Hermione wasn't happy with her either. "It's doing us so much good."

"Guys, can't we all just get along?" Gwyn asked, but Hermione was already gone. She sighed. "Seriously, would it kill you to be nice to each other?"

"Last I checked, she was upset with you as well," Ron reminded her as they climbed up to the dorms.

"Yeah, well, she is sort of my friend," Gwyn said with a sigh. "And you know, it is kind of nice to have a girl for a friend, too. Don't get me wrong, I like hanging out with you guys, it's just . . . sometimes there's stuff that you need to talk to a girl about and . . . Hermione's the only one in the Gryffindor dormitory that I can stand."

Harry sighed. "Well, if she would lay off interfering so much, then it'd be easier to get along with her," he admitted. Seeing the unhappy look, he wrapped an arm around her. "We'll try and get along with her better in the future, okay?"

She smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you," she said as they headed up to the boys' dormitory, where they hid the package underneath Harry's bed before heading off to classes.

When they were finished with dinner, they went back to the dorms so that they could unwrap it. Gwyn let out a low whistle when she saw it, hardly able to believe her eyes. It was as if it had been made of glass, it shone so much, like the sun. "Wow," she said softly.

--

During the course of the next few weeks, Gwyn barely saw Harry outside of classes and mealtimes because he now had Quidditch practice three times a week, plus homework, which meant that she and Ron spent a lot of time either doing homework or playing chess. Ron turned out to be a superb chess player and Gwyn grew tired of playing it after awhile.

"Couldn't you be a gentleman and let me win once in awhile?" she asked dryly as his queen took her knight.

"Where's the fun in that?" Ron asked with a laugh, continuing to direct his chess set. Unlike Muggle chess, the pieces moved and were alive. Parvati Patil had loaned her a chess set. Gwyn was a decent enough player—okay, she could get by—it was just having the chessmen shouting advice at her when she did something wrong was confusing.

Lessons were a lot more interesting now that they'd gotten the basics down and when they arrived in Charms class on Halloween, Gwyn was happy to learn that they were going to be performing the Levitation spell that they'd been preparing for.

"Partner?" Harry asked Gwyn when Flitwick told them to divide up into pairs and she nodded, smiling.

Ron was about to be partnered with Seamus when he got taken by one of the Ravenclaws. Much to his dismay, he was forced to be partners with Hermione, who didn't look any happier about the arrangement than Ron did. She was still angry with them and had ignored all of them—especially Gwyn—since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived. This made the dormitories an uncomfortable place to be and Gwyn tried to avoid them as much as possible.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" Flitwick reminded them. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too—never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

Gwyn chuckled as she pulled out her wand, letting Harry go first, but he didn't have much luck. "All right, your turn," he finally gave up and Gwyn sighed; nobody else in the class was having much better luck.

"All right, here we go," she said, pulling her sleeve out of the way as she moved her wrist in the familiar gesture that they'd been practicing for awhile now. "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" she chanted, swishing and flicking her wand towards the feather they were supposed to be levitating.

To her amazement, the feather lifted off of the table and hovered into the air, commanded by the blonde witch behind the wand. "Oh, well done!" Flitwick exclaimed, clapping. "See here, everyone!" he called to the rest of the class, who turned to look towards them. "Miss Swann's done it!"

"Well done!" Harry said, clapping with the rest of the class. Gwyn blushed at the attention, her concentration shot and the feather dropped back down to the ground as everyone, encouraged by her success, went back to their own feathers.

"Okay, you try again," Gwyn insisted.

Harry sighed as he pulled out his wand again, trying once again to lift the feather off of the table when Gwyn saw Ron and Hermione arguing from a few tables over. "How did you do it?" he asked her.

"I don't know," Gwyn admitted, brushing her hand through her blonde hair, trying to remember what she'd been feeling just before the feather had lifted off of the table. "I guess . . . I imagined it floating."

Harry nodded, squinting his eyes in concentration and attempting to lift the feather again when another feather lifted into the air, but it wasn't theirs this time.

"Oh, well done, Miss Granger!" Flitwick cried and Gwyn and Harry looked over to see Ron and Hermione's feather hovering into the air, with Ron in a very bad mood by now.

"It's no wonder no one can stand here," he grumbled as they walked through the corridors after class. By the end, Gwyn had helped Harry to cast the levitation spell, though it could use some work on both of their parts. "She's a nightmare, honestly."

"Ron!" Gwyn said in exasperation just as Harry was pushed sideways into her by Hermione, tears pouring down her face as she ran past them towards the girls' bathroom on the same floor.

"I think she heard you," Harry reprimanded Ron, who looked uncomfortable as his friends looked at him.

"So?" he mumbled, avoiding the dirty look that Gwyn shot him. "She must have noticed she's got no friends."

"Have we given her any reason to want to be our friend?" Gwyn replied softly. Harry looked at her and she moved past her friends. "I'm gonna go check on her. I'll meet you guys in Transfiguration." She walked towards the girls' bathroom and pushed it open, hearing sobs in the last stall. "Hermione?" she asked, knocking on it. "Hermione, it's just me. Are you okay?"

"Go away!"

Gwyn sighed, setting her bag down. "Hermione, I know that he can be a bit of a jerk sometimes, but he doesn't mean what he says half of the time. I mean, he's had five brothers to grow up with."

"I mean it, Gwyn, leave me alone," Hermione sobbed from behind the closed stall.

"Are you just going to stay in there for the rest of the day?" Gwyn asked and the soft sob indicated an affirmative. "Okay. Well, are you at least going to come to the Halloween feast tonight? It's the first one, we can't miss it."

"Just go to class, Gwyn," Hermione told her through her tears. Gwyn hesitated, not sure whether it was okay to leave her alone. "I just really want to be left alone right now. Please," she added, her voice turning into begging now. "Just go."

Gwyn sighed. "Okay," she said after a minute. "Do you want me to get the homework for you?"

"Yes, please. Thank you."

"Sure." Gwyn, feeling as though she were doing the wrong thing, headed out the door and walked to Transfiguration, just barely making it through the door when class begun.

Hermione wasn't seen for the rest of class or all afternoon. Gwyn had checked on her before she went to the feast, but the bushy haired witch requested that she be left alone.

"You did a number on her, Ronald Weasley," Gwyn snapped at him as she met her friends outside of the Great Hall. "Hermione is still in the bathroom, crying her eyes out. I really think you need to go in there and apologise."

"Why should I?" he complained.

"Because she's a human being, you moron, and deserves to be treated as such," Gwyn shot back. Harry tried to intervene. "If you don't go after the feast, I'm going to drag you down there and force you to apologise to her on bended knee, understood?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," he muttered as they entered the Great Hall and all thoughts of Hermione vanished at the sight of the decorations. Live bats, the candles in pumpkins, and food appearing on golden plates, as it had during at the welcoming feast.

However, the feast had hardly even begun when the doors to the Great Hall sprung open and Quirrell burst into the hall, complete terror written upon his face as he raced up towards the teachers' table. "Troll," he gasped, "in the dungeons . . . thought you out to know." And then he fainted onto the floor without another word.

The only word that Gwyn could describe the next few minutes was blind panic. Everyone was screaming and crying and it took several purple firecrackers from Dumbledore's wand for silence to fall over the hall. "Prefects!" he called. "Lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Gwyn joined the mob of Gryffindors with Harry and Ron as they moved through the crowd. "How could a troll get in?" Harry asked and Ron shook his head, bewildered.

"Don't ask me," he responded as they climbed the stairs with the rest of the Gryffindors. "They're supposed to be really stupid. Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

"Yeah, but aren't they supposed to be really difficult to control?" Gwyn inquired. "If you ask me, it would have to be somebody who has a speciality in dealing with them."

"Maybe," Harry said slowly, then comprehension suddenly dawned his face and he pulled Gwyn and Ron away from the crowd. "I've just thought—Hermione!"

"What about her?"

"She doesn't know about the troll," Harry reminded the redhead and after much reluctance from Ron, they took off down the corridor, slipping through the Hufflepuffs and then into a deserted hallway to get to the girls' bathroom.

"Wait," Gwyn whispered, hearing footsteps nearby. She spied a large stone griffin. "Come on, over here." She pushed herself as far against the wall as she was able and Harry and Ron slipped into the space left. "Who is it?" she whispered into Harry's ear.

"Snape," he breathed back as the footsteps walked through the corridor and faded away. "What's he doing? Why isn't he with the rest of the teachers?"

"Search me," Ron answered as they crept along the next corridor, coming straight into the troll.

Gwyn almost screamed at the twelve foot, grey, lumpy troll that was headed their way. It peered into the girls' bathroom that Hermione had been hiding herself in and, to Gwyn's horror, slouched its way into the room.

"Good," Harry said, absent of the danger. "The key's in the lock; we could lock it in."

"Have you lost your minds!" Gwyn half-shrieked at them. "Hermione's in there!"

"WHAT?!"

None of them had any other option as they raced forward, plunging into the girls' bathroom. Hermione was cowering against the wall, her eyes wide and her face dead white as the troll advanced on her, smashing the sinks into bits and pieces as they went.

"Confuse it!" Harry yelled to them and Gwyn immediately started seizing destroyed sink pieces and smashed bathroom parts, throwing them at the troll to distract it from Hermione. Unfortunately, the troll barely even noticed the ammunition that Gwyn was hurling at him.

"Oy, pea-brain!" Ron yelled.

The troll looked towards them at Ron's yell and decided to go for them instead. Gwyn grabbed her wand, not sure which spell was even going to be useful for them as Harry ran past the troll, grabbing Hermione and yanking her up to get her away from the danger.

"Come on, Hermione, run!" Gwyn yelled at her, distracted from trying to come up with a spell. That small distraction caused her fall prey to the troll, who grabbed her and threw her towards the wall. Gwyn gasped as she hit, the wind knocked out of her.

"GWYN!" Harry yelled, furious as he leaped onto the troll, fastening his arms around the troll's neck, thrusting his wand up its nose. The troll roared with pain as he swung his club around, in too much pain to think about what it was trying to hit.

Ron yanked out his wand and Gwyn was shocked when he shouted, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" And was even more astounded when the spell he was unable to work just that morning succeeded almost effortlessly. The club was lifted out the troll's hand and dropped onto its head. The troll swayed before it collapsed onto the ground, making everything tremble around them. A few loose glass pieces from the smashed mirror fell out and for a few minute, that was the only sound in the room.

"Is it—dead?"

"I don't think so," Harry answered Hermione as he pulled his wand out from the troll's nose, wiping off the lumpy grey glue on the troll's trousers. "Just knocked out." He hurried over to Gwyn, who groaned as she pushed herself to her feet. "Are you okay?"

"I'll live," she admitted as he helped her up. "But I think we're in trouble," she added weakly as Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell burst into the room. Quirrell looked as though he might faint again, while Snape inspected the unconscious troll and McGonagall looked at Gwyn, Harry, and Ron, more furious than she'd ever seen her.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" she demanded. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

All of them looked at each other, not sure what to say when Hermione, to their surprise, came to their defence. "Please, Professor McGonagall, they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione was standing up on shaking legs as she looked at the Transfiguration teacher. "I went looking for the troll because I—I thought I could deal with it on my own—because I've read all about them." Harry and Ron were staring at her and Gwyn's mouth fell open in surprise. It was lucky that none of the teachers were looking at them. "If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead right now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose, Gwyn was trying to distract it away from me so I could get away, and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

"Well, in that case . . ." McGonagall looked between the four of them, trying to decide what to do. "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?" Hermione looked ashamed as she lowered her gaze. "Five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this. I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor Tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses." Hermione nodded as she cast them a look before she left and McGonagall turned to them. "Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

They didn't bother to argue, just hurried out of the bathroom and up the stairs, away from the grotesque smell of the troll. "We should have gotten more than fifteen points," Ron grumbled.

"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's," Harry pointed out.

"It could have been worse," Gwyn admitted. "You guys were about to lock that thing up with her and who knows what would've happened if that had happened. Pig snout," she added to the Fat Lady as they reached the portrait.

The common room was packed with food and the rest of their house. Hermione was waiting for them at the door and all of them looked at each other for a long moment before Gwyn smiled at Hermione. "Friends?" she asked, to make sure.

"Friends?" Hermione inquired, looking at Harry and Ron.

"Friends," Harry confirmed.

"Friends," Ron agreed. They all smiled at each other before heading off to grab a plat of food. Gwyn later thought about the irony of everything. Saving a classmate who was furious with them from a mountain troll had made her a friend. Fate certainly had a quirky sense of humour.


	12. Cursed Broomsticks

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Twelve: Cursed Broomsticks

The weeks following up Harry's first Quidditch match went by surprisingly quickly as the weather began turning cold and chilly. Winter was starting to approach and they were rapidly leaving summer behind. Gwyn could hardly wait to see the first Quidditch match; she had never cared much for sports in the Muggle world, but Quidditch did sound exciting and besides, how could she not be there, supporting her best friend?

With Hermione as their friend, the trio had become a quartet and it made living in the girls' dormitories a lot more bearable. She also helped them with their homework, though Gwyn didn't need as much help as the boys did. Herbology was hardly her best subject and that was a more hands-on class than a reading one.

The night before his Quidditch match, Harry had gone to the teachers' lounge to get a book back from Snape after he'd taken it from Harry out on the school grounds and came back to tell them that he'd found Snape with a bloody and twisted leg, trying to bandage it up.

"You know what this means?" he asked them one he'd finished. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him—he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

Gwyn had to admit, it was a little fishy, but there was too little evidence for them to be pointing fingers towards their least favourite teacher. "I don't know, it does seem suspicious," she told him reasonably, "and I wouldn't exactly put it past Snape, but we can't know anything just yet. There's too little proof."

"Besides, he wouldn't try and steal something that Dumbledore was keeping safe," Hermione said, "I know he isn't very nice, but—"

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," Ron told her. "I'm with Harry. But what is it that he's after? What is that dog guarding?"

Harry shook his head, his expression perturbed about what he saw. "Well, whatever it is, we can't do anything about it right now," Gwyn said as she stood up. "And you need to get some sleep," she added, looking pointedly at Harry. "You have Quidditch match in the morning and you need a good night's sleep. Don't argue with me. This can wait, for now at least," she added with a sigh as she folded her arms stubbornly.

"She's right, Harry, you're going to need your strength," Hermione told him. Finally, Harry gave in and headed up to the dormitory to go to sleep with Ron and the girls looked at each other before heading up to their own dormitory. "What do you think Snape's after?"

"Nothing good."

Gwyn lay down on her bed that night, pulling the red drapes closed around her as she stared up at the ceiling, tiredness creeping across her but sleep unwilling to come. Anxiety stretched through her as she thought about the match tomorrow. She had the distinct feeling that something was going to happen tomorrow. She just knew it.

Eventually, sleep overcame her and Gwyn's mind was tugged into the dream world. She found herself within a desolate chamber, a mirror standing before her and she slowly walked towards it, pressing her fingers against the glass when a gentle hand touched her own and she spun around to see a pretty, blonde woman standing behind her.

Staring at her, Gwyn felt a flicker of familiarity as she stared into the woman's brown eyes, filled with compassion and understanding. "You have to know where to look," she whispered softly.

This made no sense to Gwyn as the woman vanished from sight and another figure took her place, but this one was cast in shadow, their features unable to be cast into light. "Who are you?" she whispered, fear coursing through her veins as she stared at the figure, who stretched his hand not towards her, but towards the mirror.

Glancing behind her, Gwyn saw a hazy image of a small, blood-red stone in the mirror instead of her reflection and she frowned in confusion and bewilderment. What was going on?

"No!" she yelled as the figure reached for the stone and lunged forward to stop him. But before she could reach him, her eyes flew open and Gwyn sat up straight, her eyes wide as she searched her canopy bed.

Breathing heavily, Gwyn slowly climbed out of bed and headed towards the bathroom, unaware that her nightmare had woken up a certain bushy haired witch as well.

Splashing water onto her face to rid herself of the sweat, Gwyn blotted it dry with a towel before she looked up into the mirror, staring at the blonde girl in the mirror before someone touched her shoulder gently.

Still shaken from the nightmare, Gwyn spun around, yanking out her wand to point it directly at whoever was in the bathroom with. "Hermione," she gasped, lowering her wand at the surprised witch. "Don't sneak up on me like that, okay?"

"Sure, no problem," Hermione said shakily. Gwyn could tell that she'd scared her by swinging around into fighting mode. "Bad dream?" Looking away, Gwyn nodded mutely. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not right now," Gwyn said quietly. She walked past Hermione back towards the dormitory. "I'm gonna try and get some more sleep before we have to get up."

"Sure," Hermione agreed before looking at her severely. "You would tell me if there was something wrong, wouldn't you?"

"Of course."

--

However, Gwyn couldn't seem to get back to sleep, no matter how much she tried. By the time that the sun started creeping into the dorms, she finally gave up and got dressed quickly in the cool autumn air before heading downstairs. If Hermione noticed how tired she looked, she didn't comment on it, nor did she mention Gwyn's nightmare to the boys, to which Gwyn was grateful.

Harry was a bundle of nerves during breakfast and by the time that eleven o'clock came around, he looked like he was going to be sick due to nerves as he headed off to the locker rooms.

"Good luck, Harry!" Gwyn yelled at him as he left. He smiled gratefully at her, but headed towards the locker rooms without speaking. "You think he's going to be okay?" she asked Ron as they headed to the top row of the seats.

"Sure," Ron answered. "It's just nerves. He'll be fine once he gets up into the air." Gwyn hesitated, but nodded as they climbed up onto the seats with Dean Thomas, Neville, and Seamus, who had the banner that they'd made in secret for Harry.

The banner was made from one of the old bed sheets that Ron's rat, Scabbers, had ruined and they'd painted **Potter for President** onto it. Dean, a good artist, had drawn a Gryffindor lion underneath it while Hermione had preformed a charm that made the paint change different colours. Gwyn shivered, not sure whether it was from nerves or cold as she pulled her cloak tighter around her.

It wasn't long before both teams started moving out onto the field. Slytherin wore green robes and Gryffindor wore scarlet. Gwyn could just pick out the small figure on the field that was Harry.

"There they go!" Ron said, grinning as they climbed onto their brooms and mounted into the air, followed by Madam Hooch, who was the referee during the match.

Lee Jordan, one of the older Gryffindor students, was in the teachers' box, commenting on the game. "And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor—what an excellent Chaser that girl is and rather attractive, too—"

"JORDAN!" McGonagall yelled. Despite herself, Gwyn couldn't help giggling as she began to watch the match.

"And she's really belting up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve—back to Johnson and –no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes—Flint flying like an eagle up there—he's going to sc—no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle—that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and—OUCH—that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger—Quaffle taken by the Slytherins—that's Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger—sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which—nice play by the Gryffindor Beat, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes—she's really flying—dodges a speeding Bludger—the goal posts are ahead—come on, now, Angelina—Keeper Bletchley dives—misses—GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

"Yes!" Gwyn yelled, punching the air as Ron roared with applause and even Hermione cheered as there was some movement behind them and Gwyn turned around, smiling as she saw who was trying to get a seat. "Hi, Hagrid," she said, moving to make room for the big gamekeeper.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," Hagrid told them as he held up a large pair of binoculars. "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

Ron shook his head. "Nope. Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

Gwyn lifted her own binoculars back to her eyes to peer up at Harry, who was flying over the game. Ron had been right for once, she realised; there was no sign of the nervousness that he'd been feeling when he'd left them. All of it seemed to have vanished the moment that the game started. Once or twice, she thought he'd seen the Snitch, but it turned out that it was a glint off of something.

Meanwhile, Lee continued to comment on the game, his voice echoing throughout the stadium. "Slytherin in possession. Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds towards the—wait a minute," he said sharply. "Was that the Snitch?"

"Go, Harry, go!" Gwyn shouted as he took a heart-stopping dive after the tiny gold speck that Gwyn had hardly seen. The Slytherin Seeker Higgs had seen it as well, following Harry as they flew towards it, both eager to beat the other to it. The other players stopped what they were doing to watch the Seekers in motion.

Being lighter than Higgs, Harry flew faster and was moving closer to the Snitch when Flint blocked Harry, sending him off course and nearly knocking him off of his broom.

"HARRY!" Gwyn screamed as he dangled from the air, barely managing to pull himself back onto the broom, about to look for the Snitch again, but it had disappeared in all of the ruckus. Gwyn let out a sigh of relief, half-collapsing against Hermione, who gripped her hand reassuringly.

Madam Hooch gave Gryffindor a free shot for Flint's block and Gryffindor was still in possession when Gwyn, continuing to watch Harry, saw that something was wrong with Harry.

"Is something wrong with his broom?" she asked out loud and Hagrid looked through his binoculars as the Nimbus carried Harry higher, away from the game, shuddering and quivering as it flew.

"Dunno what he thinks he's doing," Hagrid finally answered her, continuing to look through his binoculars. "If I didn' know any better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom . . . but he can't have . . ."

Gwyn's heart started to pound fearfully in her chest as she gripped her own binoculars tightly as she watched Harry, who was being jerked up and down and back and forth by his broom. The crowd had now noticed what was going on. "Hang on, Harry!" she shouted as it bucked him off and he dangled from the broom, hundreds of feet above the air, with one hand.

Unable to tear her gaze from her best friend, Gwyn was pulled from her watching as Hermione grabbed her binoculars and began scanning the crowd. "What?" she demanded, trying to grab them back but Hermione waved her away. "What are you dong?"

"I knew it," Hermione whispered. "Snape, look." Gwyn tried to look, but Ron grabbed the binoculars and peered through them. "He's doing something, jinxing the broom."

"What do we do?"

"Leave it to me," Hermione whispered, disappearing into the crowd. Gwyn seized her binoculars from Ron and peered towards the teachers' box, but she had aimed her gaze too high and her gaze fell on Quirrell. She blinked, lowering the binoculars for a second before raising them again. Sure enough, the Defence teacher was chanting just as fast as Snape was as she looked towards the Potions Master.

"Come on, Hermione!" Ron whispered frantically beside Gwyn, who turned her gaze skyward. Harry was barely holding on and the Weasley twins were underneath him, hoping to catch him if he fell.

Just as Gwyn was about to get up to go help Hermione, the broom stopped vibrating and Harry was able to climb back on, speeding towards the ground as he clamped his hand to his mouth.

And something gold fell out. Somehow, incredibly, he had caught the Snitch; by nearly swallowing it. Gwyn jumped up and with Ron right behind her, went to go meet Harry, Hermione catching up with them halfway down to the locker rooms.

"It was Snape," Ron explained when they'd gotten to Hagrid's hut, where Harry was having a strong cup of tea. "Gwyn, Hermione, and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off of you."

"Rubbish," Hagrid protested. Evidentially, he hadn't heard anything that had happened next to him. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

The quartet all looked at each other and then Harry looked at Hagrid. "I found something out about him. He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

"How do you know about Fluffy?" Hagrid demanded.

"_Fluffy?_" Gwyn, Hermione, Ron, and Harry all said at the same time.

"Yeah, he's mine—bough him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year—I leant him to guard the –"  
"Yes?"

"Now, don't ask me anymore. That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it."

"Rubbish," Hagrid insisted. "Snape is a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So then why did he just try and kill Harry?" Hermione demanded. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid. I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him."

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" Hagrid said, rather fiercely. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn't try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all four of yeh—yer meddlin in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicholas Flamel—"

"Aha!" Harry said. "So there's someone called Nicholas Flamel involved, is there?" Hagrid was furious with himself after that and eventually, they were forced to go back up to the castle, with promises to Hagrid that they wouldn't say anything about any of this to anyone.

Gwyn was quiet as she walked with them, still thinking about what she'd seen during the match. "You guys, stop for a second," she said sharply and they all looked at her. "I'm not so sure that it was Snape who cursed the broom."

"You're kidding!" Ron exclaimed, looking at her incredulously. "Gwyn, we all saw it—you saw it!"

"I saw him muttering something we don't know what," Gwyn answered, "but that wasn't all I saw. Quirrell was muttering something, too." She raised her eyes to look at them. "I don't know which one it was, but one of them _definitely _was trying to jinx the broom and the other was trying to perform a counter curse."

"You think Snape was trying to save me?" Harry inquired, raising an eyebrow. "Gwyn, he hates me."

"I don't know, I don't know," Gwyn sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I don't know what all of this means, Harry. But what I do know is that we're going to find out."


	13. Christmas Holidays

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Thirteen: Christmas Holidays

The weeks following the Quidditch match started to grow colder and the corridors had become icy and freezing winds hammered the winds, making it hard to pay attention in the classes, especially in Potions, where they had to sit close to their fires while they could see their breath and continuously rubbed their hands to push warmth into them.

However, Gwyn was thrilled to wake up one morning to find the grounds covered with a thick blanket of snow and the lake frozen solid. It was going to be a perfect Christmas, one of the best ones that she'd ever had. As she had originally planned, she was staying at Hogwarts with Harry and Ron, whose parents were going to visit his brother Charlie in Romania. She had put her name down on the list that McGonagall had come around with the previous week, after writing to Mrs. Harris to tell her that she'd be staying at school.

Mrs. Harris had written back, telling her to enjoy her Christmas holidays and to continue to write and do well in her classes. Gwyn was looking forward to the holidays, a first for her, because usually the Christmas holidays meant having an empty house, with her father working, and having leftovers from the fridge for dinner. Sometimes, he would bring her a present or two, but those events were rare it itself.

The day before classes ended and everyone went home for the holidays, Gwyn headed into the library with Harry, Hermione, and Ron to go search for more information on Nicholas Flamel. Ever since Hagrid had let it slip about Flamel, they had been in and out of the library, trying to find out who he was and what the dog could be hiding—and more importantly, why either Snape or Quirrell was after it. Harry was certain that he had read the name Flamel somewhere before, but he couldn't remember where.

Of course, they hadn't the remote idea of where to begin looking for Flamel, so it wasn't surprising that they hadn't found anything on him yet. Gwyn was reaching for a book on one of the high shelves, struggling to grab it when someone reached up behind her and got the book down, handing it to her.

"Oh, thanks," she said, turning to look at the tall, older student. "Thank you very much." She recognised the student as Cedric Diggory, the third-year Hufflepuff Seeker.

"No problem," he answered as he walked away towards the tables in the library. Gwyn sighed, opening up _Great Witches and Wizards of the Twentieth Century_ and began to scan the index, hoping to find Flamel there, but he was nowhere to be found and she flipped through it, hoping to find some sign of Flamel in the book, but he was nowhere to be seen.

After about an hour of finding nothing—with Madam Pince, the librarian, breathing down her back—Gwyn finally was forced to abandon the search and headed out of the library, where she found the rest of the quartet, all of whom were disappointed as they headed off to lunch.

"You will keep looking while I'm home, won't you?" Hermione asked as they walked. "And send me an owl if you find anything."

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," Ron pointed out. "It'd be safe to ask them."

Hermione smiled. "Very safe, as they're both dentists," she agreed and Gwyn chuckled, her thoughts drifting towards her own father, who was sitting at home by himself with nobody to talk to or spend the Christmas holiday with. Granted, he hadn't been around during the holiday even when she was there, but now he didn't even have the option.

Later, she decided, she would write him a letter and send it so he would receive it just in time for the holidays.

The next day, Hermione was on the train back to her parents, along with pretty much the entire school, save for a handful of students, and Gwyn was sitting in the common room, her quill scribbling on the parchment while Harry and Ron were sitting nearby, roasting marshmallows, bread, and English muffins on a toasting fork in the Gryffindor common room fireplace, talking about ways to get Malfoy expelled.

"I'm not sure that would work," Gwyn commented, overhearing while she paused in her letter.

"Who cares?" Ron said, rolling his eyes. "They're fun to talk about, even if they wouldn't work." Gwyn made a face at him as she turned her attention back to her letter. "Who're you writing to, anyway?"

"Dad."

"_Your_ dad?"

"Well, yeah, how many people do I go around calling 'Dad'?" Gwyn asked with a wry smile that made Harry chuckle, though Ron looked bewildered as he stared at her.

"I thought that you hated your dad, though," he said slowly, still looking at her in completely confusion.

Gwyn sighed. "I don't _hate_ my dad. Sure, he's a complete jerk most of the time and didn't tell me anything about my mum and who she really was, but . . . I mean, he _is_ my dad and it is Christmas." She shrugged. "What harm is writing him a letter going to do?"

Gwyn should've known better than to ask that particular question. Just by asking it, she tempted fate.

--

It was early on Christmas morning when Gwyn woke to the sunlight flowing in through the window, brightening up the quiet dormitory. Gwyn smiled, stretching as she sat up, glancing around the empty dormitory. It was a rare occasion that she had the dormitory all to herself and with Hermione, Lavender, Parvati, Moira Turner, and Margaret Tyler gone, she'd had it all to herself since everyone had left.

Her mouth dropped open in surprise as she saw the small pile of presents sitting at the end of her bed, delivered by owl sometime during the night. Gwyn smiled broadly as she reached for the presents, picking up the top parcel and tearing open the note, which was from Mrs. Harris.

_Gwyn, darling,_

_I found this amongst your mother's old things. It seemed right that you should have it. Remember, the greatest magic that you have is inside of you._

_Madeline Harris_

"The greatest magic that I have is inside me?" Gwyn repeated, frowning at the cryptic note. But she set the note aside and tore open the paper, which revealed a small, velvet box. Pulling it open on its hinges, Gwyn gasped as she saw the oval locket that lay against the satin.

Age hadn't even damaged the locket. It looked as though it had just been bought from the store, the gold of the locket glinted as the sunlight caught it in its rays, reflecting the gold at different angles. It had a small rose engraved onto the front, along with the initials A.M.T.

"Aurora Marianna Toren," Gwyn whispered, recognising the initials. "Mum." She slowly lifted the necklace out from the box and gently clasped it around her neck, touching the oval shaped locket tightly as she felt her mother's presence around her.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Gwyn shoved away tears in her eyes before turning to the rest of her presents. Along with her mother's locket, Mrs. Harris had also sent her a handsome, leather-bound journal, to record all of her thoughts and adventures during Hogwarts.

_You'll want to remember everything one day, dearest_, she wrote on the second note. Gwyn had the feeling that she was right, especially with all this stuff with Snape and Flamel and Quirrell.

Setting aside the handsome journal, Gwyn turned to the rest of her presents, opening them carefully. Hermione had sent her a box of Sugar Quills and Chocoballs. Harry and Ron had sent her a book on Charms, which she flipped through eagerly before turning to her last present, which was only a letter from her father.

Gwyn took a deep breath, not sure whether or not she wanted to know what it said as she slowly opened the letter and leaned back against the bedpost to read her father's words.

_Dear Guinevere,_

_I received your letter this morning from that idiotic bird that you sent him with and I will thank you not to send any more letters with those animals. If you insist to write, then I suggest that you do it normally, but I have had about enough tolerance of you that you would be ill-advised to write any more letters. Madeline Harris is now your guardian, as you have disobeyed me and chosen to leave normalcy behind forever. _

_You have chosen your pathway, Guinevere, and I have chosen mine. I have met a woman. She is an outstanding woman with dazzling capabilities and perhaps one day, she will be my wife. Do not come to my house and tell her anything about you, for she is unaware of you. I expect her to continue to live in ignorance. _

_If you come anywhere near my house or my new family, then you will not be shown the same kindness that I am showing you right now. I would advise you to stay your distance. You have made your choice and now have to live with that. _

_Merry Christmas_

_William Swann_

Gwyn slowly lowered the letter, angry tears filling through her eyes as she stood up, retrieving her cauldron and laying the letter inside of it. "_Incendio,_" she said quietly, alighting the letter with a flame and burning it to ashes, which fell into the cauldron.

After washing the cauldron out and returning to her dormitory, Gwyn sat down with the rest of her presents, touching the locket carefully as she heard someone yell up the stairs. "Gwyn!" It was Ron, yelling from the boys' dormitory. "Gwyn, come on, wake up! Come on, you've got to get down here! You are not going to believe this!"

He sounded too excited for it to be anything serious, but Gwyn hurried out of her dormitory and into the boys', looking at her friends expectantly. "What?" she asked, looking from Ron to Harry, who was holding a silvery cloak. "What is it?"

"Look what Harry got," Ron said excitedly as Harry continued to read the note. "It's an Invisibility Cloak," he explained to Gwyn's blank expression. "You know, a cloak that you use to be invisible with?"

"Yeah, I know what it means, Ron," Gwyn said, rolling her eyes as she wandered over to Harry to inspect it. "But they're supposed to be really rare. Who gave it to you?"

"There was no name," Harry answered softly, looking dazed. "It belonged to my father." Gwyn started as she looked at him, understanding what he was feeling. After all, what she had felt when she put on her mother's locket was probably pretty similar to what he had felt when he'd put the cloak on for the first time.

With a gentle smile, she touched his arm and gave him an understanding look as she turned towards Ron. "Come on, you guys," she said with a laugh. "We're not going to spend Christmas inside a dormitory, are we? Let's go outside, see if Fred and George want to have a snowball fight."

--

They spent the afternoon having a snowball fight with Ron's brothers and then, when it got too cold and wet, went back upstairs to have hot chocolate in front of the fire until it was time to go to dinner. It was a splendid feast, equal to the two that Gwyn had been to at the castle, complete with wizard crackers every few feet.

Gwyn had gotten the shock of her life when the first one went off; it blasted like a cannon and smoke exploded from them, along with goodies. By the end of the feast, Gwyn was the proud owner of a wizard chess set, a witch's hat with gold stars that sparkled across it, and a gift certificate to Gladrags Wizardwear.

By the time that they had returned to the common room, everyone was too tired and full from the feast to do much but watch Percy chase Fred and George around; they'd stolen his prefect badge again. Gwyn felt wide-awake by the time that she got up to her dormitory and sat down at her desk, opening up her new journal as she loaded up her quill and began to write.

She wasn't sure how she started, but soon, she was pouring out everything about her father, the death of her mother, and the events leading up to Christmas during her first year at Hogwarts. By the time that she had finished, it was already midnight and tiredness began stretching across her eyes. With a smile, she lay her quill aside and climbed into bed, blowing out the light, unaware that a certain dark-haired, green-eyed wizard was out roaming the castle with his father's invisibility cloak at that very moment.

--

Gwyn was furious when she discovered that Harry had been wandering around the castle on his own, but was curious when she found out what he'd found on his strolling. Apparently, he'd found a mirror in an unused classroom that had shown him his parents, standing there smiling at him. They had made plans to go back there tonight, under the invisibility cloak.

"I'm freezing," Ron whined after about an hour of wandering around the dark passageways. "Let's forget it and go back."

"_No!_" Harry whispered back. "I know it's around here somewhere." They had attempted to retrace Harry's steps from the library the previous evening, but after an hour of wandering, Gwyn wondered if they were going to find the mirror that he'd talked about. It was about a half-hour later when Harry said excitedly, "It's here—just here—yes!"

He pushed the door ahead of him open and pulled the cloak off of them as Gwyn closed the door behind them, looking towards the mirror that had drawn them here.

And uttered a soft gasp of surprise.

The mirror standing in front of them was the same mirror that she'd seen in her dream months ago, the one that had the blood-red stone in it . . . it was the same one.

Harry mistook Gwyn's gasp for delight, because he grinned broadly at her and Ron. "See?" he whispered. "Look! Look at them all . . . there are loads of them . . ." When he realised that neither one of them could see anything, he moved out of the way, letting Ron take his place, but Ron, instead of seeing Harry's family, saw something else. "Can you see all your family standing around you?" Harry asked him as Ron's gaze fixed on whatever he saw in the mirror.

"No—I'm alone—but I'm different—I look older and I'm head boy! I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup—I'm Quidditch captain, too!" He looked around at Harry, his eyes excited. "Do you think that this mirror shows the future?"

"Doesn't seem like it," Gwyn said slowly. "You saw yourself in the future and Harry saw his family years ago. Doesn't make sense."

"Oh, who cares?" Ron said in annoyance. "I just—" Before he could finish, Gwyn heard a noise outside the room and held her hand up to stop him. She silenced them both with a look and raced to grab the cloak, throwing it over all of them to hide them as Mrs. Norris came into the room.

None of them moved or even breathed until Mrs. Norris turned and left the room, doubtlessly to fetch her master. "Come on," Gwyn whispered once she was gone, "let's go. This is too dangerous." She grabbed a reluctant Harry on the arm and pulled him from the room with Ron bringing up the rear.

Despite the warnings that Gwyn and Ron gave him, Harry went again the next night, where he met Dumbledore, who explained what the mirror did. It showed a person's deepest, most desperate desires in their hearts.

_. . . apparently, men have been driven mad by it,_ Gwyn wrote in her journal that night. _It's going to be taken to another home tomorrow. But it still doesn't explain why I saw that mirror in my dream. And what did that dream even mean? Who was the woman and what did she mean when she said I had to know where to look? And who was the man in the shadows? None of this makes any sense . . . what did that dream even mean? _

_All I know is that things are about to get very complicated very fast. And possibly very dangerous. _

_Probably both. _


	14. A Frightening Match

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Fourteen: A Frightening Match

The Christmas holidays soon came to a close and the students that had gone home for the holidays came flocking back to the school in swarms, all chattering about the eventful Christmases that they'd had—although Gwyn doubted that they'd been any more eventful than theirs had been. When Hermione arrived and discovered what they'd been up to, she was along the same lines as Gwyn: furious that he'd been out of bed, but disappointed that he hadn't at least found out who Nicholas Flamel was.

They had continued to skim through books at the library, but had pretty much given up hope of ever finding him in the library. Gwyn head checked out a bunch of history books because her grades in History of Magic were relatively poor, trying to get as much information into her head before the end of term and was studying in the common room with Ron and Hermione playing chess nearby.

"Hermione, when was the goblin rebellion in France?" Gwyn asked as she ran through her notes, looking towards the bushy haired witch as she was struggling to figure out a way to attack Ron's king, which was pointless, considering that she only had a handful of players left.

"1539," Hermione answered without looking up.

"Thanks." Gwyn copied this into her notes and buried her head back into her studies as Harry came in from Quidditch practice and practically collapsed into the seat next to her. "Hey, how did practice go?" she asked, looking up towards him and immediately saw the look on his face. "Whoa. What happened?" she asked, alarmed. "Are you okay?" Ron and Hermione looked up to see Harry's expression.

"What is it, mate?" Ron asked him.

"Snape's going to be refereeing the next match," Harry said. Almost instantly, all thoughts of schoolwork and chess were blown from their minds as they thought about the implications of what this meant. Why would Snape suddenly desire to be refereeing the Quidditch match?

"Don't play," Hermione said at once.

"Tell them that you're ill," Gwyn told her fiercely, scared at what might happen to her best friend.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione added.

"_Really_ break your leg," Ron added. Both Hermione and Gwyn shot him annoyed looks at this suggestion, but Harry was already shaking his head, rejecting all of these suggestions.

"I can't," he told them with a sigh. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, then Gryffindor can't play at all." Gwyn opened her mouth to protest against this decision when Neville came bouncing through the portrait with his legs stuck together.

Hermione jumped up while laughter emerged around them and performed the counter curse and Gwyn helped Neville walk over to the table and sit down. "What happened?" Hermione asked him kindly.

"Malfoy."

"Of course," Gwyn grumbled, shaking her head in disgust with the Slytherin wizard. She had seen him the day before yesterday and he'd tried to do the same curse on her, but she'd managed to cast a pretty effective Shield Charm before he'd gotten the spell off. "Nev, you need to go to Professor McGonagall and tell her what happened."

"I don't want more trouble," Neville whispered, tears leaking out from his eyes and his lip trembled. Gwyn placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him.

Of course, this pretty much failed when Ron opened his big mouth. "You've got to stand up to him, Neville. He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me that I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor!" Neville cried and Gwyn tried to quiet him to no avail. "Malfoy's already done that."

"Oh, Neville . . ." Gwyn sighed as she rubbed circled around his back, calming him down. "Don't pay attention to anything that Malfoy says. He's not worth paying attention to."

"Gwyn's right, Neville," Harry said as he pulled a Chocolate Frog out of his robes and handed it to Neville. "You're worth twelve of Malfoy. The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Neville actually managed to smile as he said that, eating the frog gratefully. "Thanks, Harry . . . I think I'll go to bed. . . . Do you want the card? You collect them, don't you?"

He handed the card to Harry, who took it as Neville climbed up the stairs and they heard the door shut behind him.

"Stupid Malfoy," Gwyn muttered, seething with rage. She liked Neville, he was a good friend and for Malfoy to do that to someone who wasn't too confident to begin with . . . well, it made her want to go down to the library and start looking up curses to pay Malfoy in tenfold. "There is no way that I'm going to make it out of this school without cursing him at least once."

Harry, Ron, and even Hermione laughed. "Yeah, I'm with you on that one," Harry said, looking down at the card Neville gave him. "Dumbledore again. He was the first one that I ever—" He let out an exclamation, looking down at the card in astonishment before looking up at the other three, who were bewildered.

"_I've found him!_ I've found Flamel! I told you I had read the name somewhere before! I read it on the train coming here—listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, _and his word on alchemy with his partner Nicholas Flamel_'!"

Hermione scrambled to her feet, looking more excited than she'd looked when they'd gotten their first homework assignment, telling them to stay put as she scrambled up the steps to their dorms and was back in a flash, looking towards the blonde witch.

"Gwyn, did you borrow that alchemy book that I'd checked out a few weeks ago for light reading?"

"Yeah, here," Gwyn said, shifting through the books she had on her and handed her the enormous book that she'd "borrowed" from Hermione. "Sorry about that."

"Doesn't matter."

"This is light?" Ron inquired with a glanced towards the heavy book that weighted as much as it looked. Hermione gave him a withering look as she opened the book up and began flipping through it, finally settling on a page and a jubilant expression crossed her face.

"Of course!" she exclaimed, looking towards them excitedly. "Here it is! Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone!"

"The what?" Harry and Ron asked.

"I second that what," Gwyn added when Hermione shot them exasperated looks before pushing the book towards them, tapping the part where she'd just read. All of them leaned towards the book to read what the Sorcerer's Stone was.

_The ancient student of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The Stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produced the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. _

_There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicholas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight)_

"See?" Hermione said breathlessly when they'd finished reading. "You _see_? That's what the dog's guarding on the third floor! That's what's under the trapdoor. The Sorcerer's Stone. I bet Flamel asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it; that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts."

It was as if all the pieces suddenly fit all together, Gwyn thought. "Well, it's a start, anyway," she answered. "We still have to figure out whether it's Quirrell or Snape who's after it, though."

"My money's still on Snape," Ron muttered.

"Either way, a stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying," Harry added, shaking his head in amazement. "No wonder they're after it! _Anyone_ would want it!"

Ron smiled faintly. "And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that _Student of Recent Developments in Wizardry_. He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

--

In the end, Harry decided to play Quidditch, despite the danger of Snape being referee. Unknown to him, the other three decided to practice the Leg-Locker Curse, getting the idea from Malfoy, ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of attempting to hurt Harry. Hermione was whispering advice to Ron as they climbed into the stands.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," Ron commented as the players climbed onto the field, taking off into the sky. Gwyn barely paid any attention to her friend as she watched Harry in the sky, keeping a close watch on Snape. Not until Malfoy came up from behind them, poking Ron in the back of the head. "Ouch!"

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, I didn't see you there," he commented. Gwyn fingered her wand carefully, not sure she whether she wanted to use it on Snape or Malfoy first. Both options seemed rather tempting. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

"Have you always been this annoying, Malfoy, or is this just a recent development?" Gwyn inquired, keeping her eyes on the game, but whipped around, already pointing her wand at Malfoy when he grabbed his own. She had no idea how she'd known that he was about to curse her, but she was grateful that she had. "Don't even think about it."

Malfoy glared at her, the effects of her Shield Charm doubtlessly on his mind as he replaced his wand and she turned back, returning her wand to its proper place as she turned her attention back to the game, looking up at Harry, circling around the game, searching for the Snitch.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" Malfoy inquired as Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty for no apparent reason. Gwyn sighed, attempting to tune out Malfoy and focus on the game. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money—you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Gwyn turned around, blue eyes blazing, ready to counter Malfoy's attack of her friend when Neville whispered in a shaky and stammering voice, "I—I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy."

"You tell him, Neville," Ron said without taking his eyes off of the game while laughter emerged from Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Returning her attention to the game, Gwyn determinedly ignored Malfoy even when Ron tackled him after a remark about his family when Harry dove into a dive, obviously seeing the Snitch. Gwyn jumped from her seat, not paying attention to the fight going on behind her, to look towards her best friend, Hermione with her. "Come on, Harry!" Gwyn shrieked as he dove straight towards Snape, who was flying right in front of the Snitch, unaware of the Gryffindor Seeker heading towards them.

A second later, Harry flew into the air, the Snitch clasped in his hands and the stadium erupted with applause. Gwyn shrieked in delight, hugging Hermione in relief and merriment.

"Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over!" Hermione shrieked as she hugged Gwyn back, unaware of the fight that Ron, Neville, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were currently involved in. "Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!"

--

Gryffindor house had never been so thrilled and excited as they headed back to the common room to have a party in celebration about the victory. Fred and George had stolen some cakes and stuff from the kitchens, but so far there had been no sign of Harry until he finally emerged in the common room and asked them to come outside, where he whispered to them what he had seen in the forest.

Snape had approached Quirrell and interrogated him about getting past Fluffy and threatened him about the Stone. " . . . So we were right, it _is_ the Sorcerer's Stone and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy—he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus-pocus'—I reckon there are other things guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through . . ." Harry finished and by the time that he did, all four of them had picked up on Harry's train of thought and it looked as though it had been Snape from the beginning. Despite Gwyn's misgivings, she had to admit that everything was pointing towards Snape as the culprit.

"So you mean . . . you mean that the Stone is only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" Hermione's eyes were wide and frightened as they thought about this. Professor Quirrell, frightened of his own shadow and who spoke in a quavering voice all of the time . . . how long could he possibly be able to stand up to Snape?

Ron voiced all of their thoughts on the subject. "It'll be gone by next Tuesday."

"Maybe not," Gwyn said slowly and all eyes turned to her. "Dumbledore is the only wizard that Voldemort ever feared. So . . . as long as he's here, I don't think we're going to need to worry about Snape trying anything. As long as he's here, I think we're safe."


	15. A Dragon Hatchling

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Fifteen: A Dragon Hatchling 

Gwyn rubbed her eyes tiredly as she flipped through her history book, writing the essay that was the assignment for the Easter holidays. To their dismay, the teachers had piled on a bucket load of homework during the holidays in an attempt to freshen their minds over everything that they had learned over the past seven months, prepping them for the final exams. Needless to say, Hermione was already fretting about all of the exams, alarmed that she wasn't going to pass anything.

As for Gwyn herself, she wasn't particularly worried about her Potions or Charms finals; she was way ahead than even Hermione when it came to Charms and as for Potions . . . well, considering that she usually got one of the better grades in a class where the teacher hated all Gryffindors, she had to assume that she was doing pretty well. It was her History of Magic and Herbology finals that she was worried about.

"Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?" Ron interrupted her studying and she glanced up to see the giant gamekeeper shuffling in through the library, looking like he was hiding something. She paused in her writing to give her full attention.

"Jus' lookin'," he answered in a voice that made Gwyn suspect that he was up to something. "An' what're you lot up ter? Yer not still lookin' for Nicholas Flamel, are yeh?"

Gwyn shook her head, trying to see which section that he was coming out of as Ron said in a tone that suggested that he thought Hagrid would be impressed with them, "Oh, we found who he is ages ago. And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerer's St—"

"Shh!" Hagrid cast a helpless look around the library, as if expecting people to be hovering in, listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh? Listen—come an' see me later. I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'ppossed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh—"

"See you later, then," Harry told him. Hagrid sighed as he walked out of the library and Gwyn turned to look at her friends curiously.

"What's he up to?"

Harry shrugged as Ron jumped up to see which section he was in and came back with a pile of books in his arms. "Dragons!" he whispered to them. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at all these . . ." He named off a few of the titles as Gwyn looked back down at her History of Magic book.

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I've ever met him," Harry told them.

"But it's against our laws," Ron explained. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden—anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."

"There aren't wild dragons in Britain, are there?" Gwyn inquired, pausing in her studies.

"Of course there are," Ron answered, looking surprised by the question, then seemed to remember that the three people around him were raised by Muggles. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Wizards have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

All of them frowned as they looked at one another. Gwyn wondered what Hagrid could possibly be up to before she was put back on earth by Hermione. "Well, I suppose we can ask him tonight; right now, we've got to focus on our studying. None of us are going to pass at this rate and—"

"If we don't pass, then we don't get into second year," Gwyn interrupted her with a smile. "We know, Hermione, we know."

--

It was mid-afternoon by the time that they reached Hagrid's hut next to the Forbidden Forest. Gwyn frowned towards the curtains that shielded the inside of the cabin to onlookers. When they knocked, he called, "Who is it?" before they were allowed to enter and the door was shut quickly behind them, in case someone was standing outside, watching.

Despite the warm spring day, the inside of the cabin was stifling hot and Gwyn noticed that the fire was blazing, a cauldron hovering above it, but there was something underneath it, she noticed immediately and as she looked closer, there was a huge, black _egg_.

"Uh, Hagrid—" she began, but the conversation rapidly turned into a discussion about the Sorcerer's Stone and she sat down to listen as Harry questioned him about what was guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy, to which Hagrid refused to answer.

"Number one," he told them flatly, "I don' know meself. Number two, yeh already know too much, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts—I s'ppose yeh've already worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you _do_ know, you know everything that goes on around here." Hermione was flattering him, quite well actually, and Gwyn noticed that he was smiling embarrassedly. "We only wondered who had _done_ the guarding, really," she added. "We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

Score one for Hermione! Gwyn inwardly cheered. They'd got him. She had done the trick.

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that . . . let's see . . . he borrowed Fluffy from me . . . then some o' the teacher did enchantments . . . Professor Sprout—Professor Flitwick—Professor McGonagall—" He paused, thinking over whatever was guarding the Stone. "Professor Quirrell—and Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

"Snape?" Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gwyn all exclaimed at the same time. Hagrid nodded.

"Yeah—yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped _protect_ the Stone, he's not about to steal it."

On the contrary, Gwyn thought, it put him in the perfect protection, if others didn't think that someone on the inside would steal it. Not only that, he could easily find out how the other teachers had guarded it. The only pieces that Snape was probably missing was Quirrell's spell and getting past Fluffy.

One look towards the others told Gwyn that the other three were thinking the exact same thing. "You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" Harry asked, voicing their thoughts. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," Hagrid said, beaming with pride at the thought.

"That's something, at least," Harry mumbled as Gwyn finally turned the attention towards the egg she'd spotted the moment that they'd walked in through the door.

"Hagrid?" she asked and he turned to look at her. She inclined her blonde head towards the fire. "What exactly is that?" Hagrid blushed as the others turned their attention to the source of Gwyn's question. "It's a dragon egg, isn't it? How'd you get it?"

"I won it," Hagrid explained. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad to get rid of it, ter be honest."

Hermione didn't look happy as she looked at the egg. "What are you doing to do with it when it's hatched?"

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," Hagrid told her as he retrieved a book lying on his enormous bed. "Got this outta the library—_Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit_—it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here—how ter recognise diff'rent eggs—what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

Gwyn inwardly groaned at the thought of what might happen if someone discovered that the gamekeeper was keeping an illegal dragon in the house, but she kind of felt sorry for Hagrid, seeing the happy expression on his face as he stroked the fire, because she knew that, sooner or later, he was going to get rid of it.

_Poor Hagrid_, she thought as they walked back up to the castle later on. She of all people knew what it was like to be alone, no family left. Sometimes, people needed someone to take care of. In many ways, Hagrid might need the dragon more than the dragon needed Hagrid.

"You understand that, too, don't you, Tabby?" she asked, stroking her kitten softly as she ran through her History notes again, scribbling onto the parchment another line. Tabby meowed happily as she scratched him behind the ears, smiling.

It was a couple of weeks, weeks of piling homework every single night, until Hagrid finally sent them a letter telling them that the dragon was starting to hatch. Despite herself, Gwyn was actually eager to see a dragon hatching, and how many times in her life was she going to see something like that?

Ron agreed with her as he pointed this fact out to Hermione when they were arguing about going down there on their way to Herbology. Hermione was listing all the wrongs about what Hagrid was doing when Harry shushed her, casting a quick glance towards Malfoy, a few feet away.

Gwyn cast a quick look towards Malfoy as she pushed the other three ahead of her, worried about how much he had overheard. "You two are going to get Hagrid in trouble," she whispered to them as they joined the class.

Hermione said nothing as they started the lesson and by the time it was over, she had agreed to go down to Hagrid's with her and the boys during morning break. When Herbology ended, they hurried across the grounds to Hagrid's hut, where Hagrid opened the door quickly for them, shutting it behind them quickly.

"It's nearly out."

The egg was on the table, with cracks on it. Something inside was struggling inside, trying to push its way out. At long last, there was a scraping noise and the dragon burst out onto the table. Gwyn gasped in surprise at the baby dragon. As far as her dragonology went, she supposed that he could be beautiful, but he had a small, skin body with a long snout and wide nostrils and bright orange eyes. A couple of sparks flew out of his mouth when he sneezed.

"Isn't he _beautiful_?" Hagrid sighed as he stroked the dragon. Gwyn couldn't help smiling at the sight. If he hadn't been kicked out of school in his third year, he probably would've made a wonderful dragon trainer. "Oh, bless him, look! He knows his mommy!"

"Hagrid!" Gwyn said sharply, scrambling to her feet and hurrying to the window, closing the gap that had just barely been showing the scene in the hut. The gamekeeper looked towards her worriedly and she blocked the table, preventing the person outside from looking in.

"Gwyn, what is it?" Harry looked towards her in alarm.

"Malfoy," she answered and Harry pushed back his chair to open the door, closing it behind him quickly and Gwyn didn't dare move until Harry was back inside, shutting the door behind him.

"He went up to the school when I went out there. Did he see anything?"

"I don't know, I don't think so, but he could've," Gwyn admitted, biting her lip as she moved the curtains tighter together. "Why can't they make curtains so that there's no gap between them?" She shook her head, casting a quick look at the others. They knew as well as she did that they could take no chances.

Hagrid was gonna have to get rid of the dragon.

--

It took a lot of pleading, begging, and convincing for Hagrid to finally agree to send the dragon—that he'd named Norbert—to Romania. Ron was going to write to his brother Charlie to see if he could take the dragon there and put him back into the wild.

A week later, Ron was sporting an injured hand after trying to help Hagrid feed Norbert. Gwyn didn't know a whole lot about dragons, but just by the looks of it, it didn't look like his hand was going to get any better on its own. Just as Gwyn was about to advise Ron to go to Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, and just tell her that he'd been bitten by something and didn't know what, a tap came from the window.

"It's Hedwig!" Harry announced, hurrying to let his owl in. The snowy-white owl swooped in, dropping a letter onto the table. "She'll have Charlie's answer."

_Dear Ron,_

_How are you? Thanks for the letter—I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon._

_Can' you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark. _

_Send me an answer as soon as possible. _

_Love, _

_Charlie_

"Midnight on Saturday," Gwyn murmured. "That's gonna be difficult to arrange." She looked towards Harry, who was musing over the dilemma.

"I don't think it's going to be _that_ big of a problem," he said slowly. "We've got the invisibility cloak. It shouldn't be too difficult—I think the cloak's big enough to cover two of us and Norbert."

There wasn't much else they could do; they had to get rid of that dragon before somebody found out and this was the only option that they had, so Ron, painfully from the bite, wrote back to Charlie, telling him that they'd be there.

In the end, it was Harry and Hermione who went to meet Charlie's friends; Ron had finally been forced to go to the hospital wing after his hand turning green and swelling to twice its normal size. Gwyn, after much pleading on Harry's part, finally agreed to stay behind.

"Be careful," she warned them as he and Hermione headed out of the common room Saturday underneath the invisibility cloak. "Oh, and guys?" she added suddenly. They both looked at her. "Don't forget the cloak after you meet Charlie's friends."

She had no idea what made her say it and, though they both gave her confused looks, Harry and Hermione assured her that they wouldn't forget before heading out of the common room.

Gwyn sighed as she opened her journal in the common room and began to scribble into it.

_I think everything's about to become clear. _


	16. Impending Doom

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Sixteen: Impending Doom

"I don't understand how you knew what was going to happen," Harry told Gwyn as they walked down to Hagrid's the next day. "If we had forgotten the Cloak, we would've run straight into Filch." Gwyn shook her head as she walked with the other three.

"How did you know, anyway?" Hermione inquired, looking towards the blonde witch curiously.

Gwyn sighed, shaking her head. "I don't know. I'm not even sure what made me say it. It just . . . popped out, before I could even stop it."

"Maybe you're a seer," Ron suggested with a note of disgust in his voice and Gwyn made a face at him. "Hey, don't get me wrong, I'm glad everything worked out, but I'm just not a big fan of seers. They tend to stick their noses in where they don't belong."

"Right, because we haven't done anything like that lately," Gwyn commented as she knocked on Hagrid's front door. He opened the door to let them in, looking forlorn as they joined him at the table. "Hey, Hagrid, how are you holding up?"

"Bin better," he admitted as he made a pot of tea. "It's bin a hard couple o' days." He paused. "Did Norbert get off all right?"

"Yeah, he's fine," Harry assured him. "Don't worry, he's in safe hands." Hagrid still looked unhappy, but nodded as he poured them some tea.

"Don' mean to rush yeh three, but gotta get into the forest real early tonight," Hagrid told them suddenly. "Somethin' roamin' around in there, somethin' big. Been killin' some unicorns. Found a few of 'em drained of their blood."

"What would be after unicorn blood?" Gwyn asked, frowning. She was sure she'd read something about unicorn blood, but she couldn't remember it at the moment.

"Not sure, Gwyn, that's what's botherin' me," Hagrid said gruffly. "And the centaurs aren' helpin' much. Ruddy stargazers," he grumbled. "Not interested in anythin' closer than the moon. Just keep sayin' that Mars is bright or somethin' else that's equally unhelpful."

"There are centaurs in the forest?" Hermione asked eagerly, looking amazed and Hagrid grinned.

"A fair few," Hagrid answered. "Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if ever I want a word. They're deep, mind, centaurs . . . they know things . . . jus' don' let on much."

"What could be killing unicorns?" Harry wondered out loud and Hagrid shook his head, obviously upset about the happenings in the forest and they soon left Hagrid to go to the forest to find the unicorn.

Ron and Harry were discussing the next Quidditch match, which was the final and Gryffindor would be playing, and Hermione was engrossed in the book she was carrying while she was walking while Gwyn's thoughts were on the unicorn that Hagrid had found. She suddenly stopped dead in her tracks as a thought occurred to her.

"Gwyn, what is it?" Harry asked, looking at her as they stopped.

She didn't answer immediately, but turned to look at Hermione. "Guys, what exactly is unicorn blood used for?" she asked slowly. "Hermione, do you remember reading anything about that when we were looking up stuff about Flamel? Because it sounds familiar."

Hermione looked surprised at the question, then apprehension dawned on her face. "Of course! It's used to keep a person alive, even if they're an inch from death. But to kill a unicorn, to drink it's blood . . . it's a terrible price to pay," she explained. "If I remember correctly, the book said that the person who drank it would be cursed for all eternity."

"Who'd be that desperate, though?" Harry asked, frowning as they wandered over to a tree in the grounds, sitting down underneath it. "If you're going to be cursed forever, death's better, isn't it?"

"It is, to most people," Gwyn said slowly, an idea slowly forming in her head. She was starting to think that nothing around here involved coincidences. "But what if all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else . . . something that would bring you back to full strength . . . that would ensure that you never die . . ." She raised her eyebrows to her friends and they caught onto her train of thought.

"Are you saying . . ." Ron whispered in horror, "that whoever is killing the unicorns in the forest . . . that's . . . You-Know-Who?"

Not one of them moved or even breathed as they looked at each other, alarm in all of their faces. "All this time," Harry said finally, "we thought that Snape wanted the Stone for himself, but instead, he wants it for Voldemort! With the Elixir of Life, he'll be strong again . . . he'll come back."

Gwyn closed her eyes as she looked towards the sky, wondering how the world could be so bright and cheerful when they had a very serious threat on their hands. And she was sure that nobody would believe them. After all, who was going to believe four eleven-year-olds about a presumed dead wizard that wanted to rise again? Even to Gwyn, the thought sounded ridiculous in her head.

"What are we going to do?" Ron finally asked, looking around at the others as they sat underneath the tree. Gwyn shook her head, absently casting the levitation spell on a twig nearby, hovering it into the air as she contemplated the problem.

"I don't think we need to worry about it right now," Hermione said practically. "We're all forgetting one thing. What's the _one_ thing that You-Know-Who's always feared?"

"Dumbledore," Gwyn said at once.

"Exactly," Hermione said, pointing at Gwyn with a smile. "So as long as Dumbledore's around, then the Stone is safe. He's not going to make his move as long as Dumbledore is still at Hogwarts."

"And yet, why do I have the feeling that it's going to be up to us, in the end?" Gwyn sighed. She stood up. "Come on, we'd better get back up to the common room. Finals are coming pretty soon."

Harry and Ron groaned, but reluctantly agreed as they headed off to the Gryffindor common room to continue studying for their finals.

--

Finals came sooner than Gwyn ever would have expected and how she managed to get through them with the threat of a dangerous and dark wizard coming to full power hanging over their heads was beyond.

After weeks of preparation, they finally were sitting down with their special quills, bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell to prevent anyone from cheating on the exams, and were given their written exams. Gwyn preferred the practical parts of the exams; she knew the material, sure, but there was a big difference between being able to do the spells and potions and writing about them.

She was sure that she'd passed her Charms exam with flying colours and hoped that her Potions she would at least pass. Gwyn knew she'd done reasonably well on it, but with Snape, there was no telling what she might get. After all, she'd gotten lower marks than Pansy Parkington and she knew that she did at least better than the pug-faced Slytherin.

With Hermione's help, she thought she might have even gotten through History of Magic, and was relieved when it was over, because that meant the end of the exams. Cheers rang out in the History of Magic classroom when Binns told them to lay down their quills and Gwyn joined it, glad that the finals were over.

"That was far easier than I expected it would be," Hermione said as they ventured outside into the sunlight. "I needn't have studied about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager."

Gwyn smiled at her friend as she stretched out onto the grass. "Hermione, exams are over, let's not relive them, okay?" she said cheerfully as she looked towards Harry, who was rubbing his forehead yet again. He'd been telling her lately that his scar had been bothering him, burning and hurting. And he'd been having dreams, the old ones about a flash of green light and a figure with blood dripping from his mouth.

There was nothing that Gwyn could tell him, except that nothing was going to happen while Dumbledore was here. And with the headmaster remaining in Hogwarts halls, she was able to . . . well, perhaps not relax, but breath a bit more easily. But she wasn't as convinced as Hermione and Ron that his scar hurting wasn't a warning of impending doom.

"Harry, Gwyn, relax," Ron said lazily as he lay on the grass as Harry tried to convince the other two, yet again, that something was going to happen, something big. "Hermione's right. The Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."

"I'm not so sure," Gwyn murmured softly as she leaned her head back against the tree. "I've been having those weird feelings again. Something's going to happen."

"That's just the exams," Hermione said soothingly. Gwyn shot her a look. "What? I've been worried sick about them for days, fretting that if I mess up one, then they aren't going to let me into second year. Forget about it, Gwyn."

"It's not the exams," Gwyn insisted. "It's like that feeling that I had in the pit of my stomach that night you two went up to the tower to see Norbert off. I don't know—Harry?" she asked, cutting off as he stood up quickly, alarm reaching into his face. "What is it?"

"I've just thought of something," he said quickly, striding away from them, towards the other end of the grounds. Gwyn shared a mystified look with Hermione and Ron before scrambling to her feet and racing after Harry, the other two behind her. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."

Gwyn frowned in bewilderment as Harry quickened his pace. "How come?" she wondered as she tried to keep up with Harry's fast pace, which seemed to be a lot faster than usual. She half-stumbled down the slope as they ran the rest of the way to Hagrid's, Harry giving them a half-explanation on his train of thought.

"Don't you think that it's a bit odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon and a stranger shows up who just _happens_ to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't I see it before?"

"What are you talking about?" Ron demanded as Gwyn gasped, catching on to what Harry was saying.

"He's saying that it wasn't a coincidence that a stranger happened to show up to have drinks with Hagrid, but that it was someone trying to get information out of him," she told Ron and Hermione. "At least, that is what you're saying, isn't it?" she asked, directing the question towards Harry, who nodded as they reached Hagrid's.

Hagrid was shelling peas into a large bowl outside of his house when they arrived, but he looked towards them, smiling as they approached, all of them breathing heavily by the fast pace they'd gotten there by. "Hullo. Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"No, we're in a hurry," Harry said as Ron opened his mouth to say yes. "Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno," Hagrid answered with a shrug as he settled into a seat, looking down at them curiously. "He wouldn' take his cloak off. It's not that unusual," he added, spotting their stunned looks. "Yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head—that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."

"What did you talk to him about, Hagrid?" Gwyn asked, spotting Harry's panicked look. "Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mighta come up," Hagrid admitted, frowning in thought. "Yeah . . . he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here. . . . He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after . . . so I told him . . . an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon . . . an' then . . . I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks. . . . Let's see . . . yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted . . . but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home. . . . So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy. . . ."

"And did he—did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked. He kept his tone even, his inquiry merely curious.

"Well, realistically, how many three-headed dogs are you going to meet in your lifetime?" Gwyn said dryly.

Hagrid chuckled. "Yeah, even around Hogwarts," he agreed. "So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight to sleep—" His face drained of colour as he realised what he had just revealed to them. "I shouldn'ta told yeh that! Forget I said it! Hey—where're yeh goin'?"

But none of them stopped as they raced up to the castle, the worst possible scenarios going through their minds as they reached the entrance hall and prepared themselves for the first of what was sure to be many battles ahead of them.

AN: Okay, guys, there's only two more chapers left. So, if I can get two or three reviews by tonight, then I'll post it later. So if you want the next chaper today . . . (giggles diabolically) . . . then you'll please review. Thanks!

Lady Dawson


	17. Into the Trapdoor

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Seventeen: Into the Trapdoor

They had tried to tell Professor Dumbledore, but to their horror, they discovered that he had been summoned to the Ministry of Magic and McGonagall was shocked and stunned when she learned they knew about the Stone, but insisted that it was protected well enough that nothing could get through it. Gwyn tried to explain to her the seriousness of the situation, but she refused to hear of it and they were left with a serious situation on their hands with nobody but themselves to deal with it.

Gwyn, Harry, and Ron went off to the third floor to keep an eye on things while Hermione kept an eye on Snape, but both of those plans fell through. McGonagall found them and threatened to take fifty points from them if they were caught anywhere near there again. Hermione ran into Snape and said she was waiting for Flitwick and then Snape went to go get him.

There was nothing left for them to do but go to the third floor that evening, to get the Stone before Snape did, because there was no other option. It was either that or a dangerous wizard would be out on the loose again and chaos would reign, like it had when Voldemort was in power. Gwyn was immediately with Harry. Having lost a parent to Voldemort's carnage—or at least his followers'—she knew firsthand of what was a stake.

There was nothing left to do but wait for the common room to empty and then they made their way out of the common room to head to the third floor.

"What are you doing?" Gwyn nearly had her heart jump out of her chest when she heard Neville speak from behind them and she whirled around to see that he was standing behind them, clutching his toad Trevor. He eyed their guilty faces. "You're going out again."

"Of course we're not, Nev," Gwyn lied, but she wasn't good at lying under pressure and with the threat of Snape playing Fluffy to sleep and heading into the chamber, they couldn't afford to waste even a moment. "We're just having a late night chat, getting started on that summer schoolwork . . ." If she survived to do the work, anyway . . .

"Why don't you go to bed, Neville?" Hermione said, keeping her voice even as she spoke kindly to Neville. "Really, we're just doing schoolwork."

"You can't go out," Neville retorted, clearly not believing them. "You'll be caught again. Gryffindor will in even more trouble."

"Neville, listen," Harry pleaded, desperate. "You don't understand, this is important!"

"I won't let you do it!" Neville said, his voice high and pitched, but he was determined to stop them. He moved in front of the portrait hole and lifted his hands, curling them into fists. "I'll—I'll fight you!"

"Neville!" Ron was at the end of his temper and his eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Get away from that hole and don't be an idiot—"

"Don't call me an idiot!" Neville shot back at him. Gwyn shot a signalling look towards Hermione, who moved closer to her. "I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!"

"Have you mastered that full Body-Bind spell yet?" Gwyn breathed to the bushy-haired witch, who went pale, but nodded. "Good, because I'm still working out the kinks on that one. Because I think that might just be our only option here." She cast a helpless look at Neville at Hermione's horrified look. "It might not be the ideal solution, but I'm failing to see what other option we have right now."

"I know," Hermione said miserably as she turned towards Neville, pulling out her wand. "Neville, I'm really, really sorry about this," she told him as she pointed it towards him. "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

Neville went rigid and stiff, swaying where he was on his unmoving feet before falling backwards onto the floor. Hermione raced over to him to make sure that he was all right, apart from being immobile, that was. Gwyn closed her eyes, hating that it had come to this, but knowing that they had no other option.

"Let's go," Harry said quietly. Gwyn nodded as they moved towards the portrait hole, each of them whispering apologies to Neville as they passed him, pulling over the invisibility cloak, which barely covered all of them as they moved through the castle, heading towards the third floor.

Gwyn could barely even breathe, her heart was pounding with apprehension, with dread. All she could think about was what was lying ahead of them, what would happen if they failed. But most of all, she was terrified of what might happen if they were discovered. Thankfully, the only person—if he could be called that—was Peeves and Harry managed to send him away by pretending to be the Bloody Baron.

"_Brilliant_, Harry!" Ron whispered as they reached the third floor and finding the door already ajar.

"That you are," Harry whispered. "Snape's already got past Fluffy." Gwyn swallowed, everything starting to hit her all at once . . . what they were facing and what it meant if they failed. Harry turned to all three of them. "If you want to go back, I won't blame you. You can take the cloak, I won't need it now."

"Don't be stupid," Ron snapped.

"Out of the question," Gwyn added, annoyed.

"We're coming," Hermione agreed.

Harry hesitated, but nodded as he pushed the door open and they entered the corridor quietly. Fluffy raised his heads the moment they entered the corridor, smelling them, even though he couldn't see them. There was a harp lying where Snape had played him to sleep.

Raising a flute to his mouth, Harry began to play and Fluffy began to fall asleep, lying his heads onto the ground, yawning widely as it slipped into dream world. Gwyn let out a slow breath as they pulled off the cloak, Harry continuing to play as Gwyn moved towards the trapdoor, pulling it open as Ron joined her, looking down through trapdoor.

"What can you see?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Gwyn answered dryly as she peered into the inky blackness that was lying hundreds of feet below the school.

"She's right, it's just black," Ron explained. "There's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop." Harry waved at them and pointed towards himself. "You want to go first? Are you sure? I don't know how deep this thing goes. Give the flute to Hermione so she can keep him asleep."

Harry handed the flute to Hermione, who continued to play, but it the few moments of silence, Fluffy began to wake up.

Fortunately, when the notes began to play once more, he fell into another deep sleep. Harry moved over to join the other two next to the trapdoor and peered into it before looking towards Gwyn and Ron. "If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, all right?"

"I'm going with you," Gwyn replied, looking at him firmly, unyielding. Harry opened his mouth to argue with her, but she beat him to the punch. "You're not the only one here who's lost a parent to Voldemort, Harry. I lost my mum, too."

Harry hesitated, but finally nodded as he looked down, standing up. He held out his hand to her and she took it. "See you in a minute, I hope. . . ." he said to Ron and Hermione as they moved to the same side of the trapdoor. "You with me?"

"To the death," she answered.

"Somehow, that doesn't seem very encouraging," Ron mumbled from behind her and she stuck her tongue out at him as they jumped through the trapdoor.

Gwyn shrieked in surprise as cold air ran past them and Harry grabbed her, pulling her towards him as they fell further and further down. Just as Gwyn was starting to loose all feeling in her right arm, they landed on something surprisingly soft and she rolled over, groaning slightly as she pushed herself up to look at Harry.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, you?" he asked and she nodded before looking around at them. They'd landed on some sort of plant. She wasn't sure what it was; Herbology wasn't something she was horrible at, but it wasn't her best work either. "It's okay!" Harry yelled up towards Ron and Hermione. Gwyn glanced up, seeing a small light above them. It seemed hundred of miles away. "It's a soft landing! You can jump!"

Ron jumped at his yell, landing next to them. "What is this stuff?" he asked anxiously. Gwyn could've sworn that she felt the plant move past her leg, but when she looked down, there was nothing there.

"Don't know," Harry answered as Gwyn dismissed it as her imagination. "Some sort of plant thing. I suppose it's here to break the fall. Come on, Hermione!" he yelled up to the bushy-haired witch who Gwyn could hear distantly playing the flute.

Hermione stopped playing and jumped, landing next to Gwyn and looked around them. "We must be miles under the school," she observed as Gwyn felt the plant move again and this time, she knew that it hadn't been her imagination. For one thing, she felt it tighten around her ankles and for another, Hermione shrieked in surprise, managing to get away from the plant before it got a good grip on her.

"Stop moving!" Hermione ordered as the boys tried to thrash to fight it. Gwyn was trying to move towards her wand, but her hand was caught in the plant too tightly. "I know what this is—it's Devil's Snare! Let me see here . . . what did Professor Sprout say about how to kill it? It likes the dark and the damp . . ."

"So light a fire!" Harry croaked.

"_Incendio!_" Gwyn gasped, finally grasping her wand and pushing the wand towards the plant. She hissed as the fire caught her hand, but ignored the pain as the fire blasted the plant back away from her enough to pull her injured hand free and direct the fire towards the boys, pushing it away from them. "Hurry, go!" she ordered them as they raced down the stone passageway, away from the plant.

"What happened to your hand?" Harry asked her, alarmed.

"Got in the way of the fire," Gwyn admitted as Hermione saw her blackened hand.

"That looks awful," she admitted, waving her wand towards Gwyn's hand and bandaging it quickly. Gwyn felt some of the pain ebb away as she relaxed it slightly. "I'm afraid that's all I can do for right now."

"It's okay, I'll be fine," Gwyn assured them. "Let's just hit the next chamber, see what we're going to have to do."

Harry didn't look convinced that she was all right, but agreed as they headed towards the next room. It took awhile to get there and when they arrived at Flitwick's spell, they found a room filled with winged keys and a handful of broomsticks to fly up and catch them.

"I think you three had better handle this one," Gwyn told them. "I'm in no position for flying right now." She stayed one the ground while the other three swept in and out of the keys, searching for the key when Harry saw it.

"That one!" he shouted. "That big one! The one with bright blue wings, the feathers are all crumpled on one side! We've got to close in one it! Ron, you come at it from above—Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down. I'll try and catch it. Right, NOW!"

Gwyn gasped in alarm; they looked like they were about to crash into each other as Harry caught the key, pinning it against the wall. She cheered with Ron and Hermione as they landed, the key gripped tightly in Harry's hand as he shoved it into the door, turning it quickly before releasing it and letting it take flight again, pushing the door open as they moved into the next chamber and whatever challenges it met.

Darkness met Gwyn's eyes and she squinted to see when light suddenly flooded into the room and she gasped at the sight. They were standing in front of a huge chessboard, behind black chessmen all taller than they were and carved from black stone. Across from them were white pieces.

"Now what do we do?" Harry whispered as they tried to move across the chessboard, but the white pieces blocked them from moving any further.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Ron asked them, looking towards the black pieces. "We've got to play our way across the room. We're going to have to be chessmen, I think." He looked towards the pieces in concentration. "All right. Harry, you take the empty bishop's square. Gwyn, you take the knight's position on his side. Hermione, you take the queen's side castle. I'll be the knight on that side." The chessmen overheard their conversation and the pieces he had chosen moved off of the board, leaving the spaces free.

Moving to her position, Gwyn waited for the game to begin. She had never been good at Muggle chess and wasn't much better at wizard chess; but this was different. This time, she was _in_ the game.

Keeping her eyes open, Gwyn moved wherever Ron directed her and they collected as many white pieces as they lost black ones. When they were nearing the end, Gwyn looked around the chessboard, apprehension filling through her, thought it took a minute for her to understand the meaning of it as she looked toward the redhead wizard.

"Yes . . ." Ron whispered as he looked around the board before turning towards them. "It's the only way . . . I've got to be taken!"

"NO!" Gwyn, Harry, and Hermione shouted together.

"That's chess! You've got to make some sacrifices. I take one step forward and she'll take me—that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!" Ron's face was pale, but desperate. "Do you want to stop Snape or not?"

"Ron—"

"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!" Ron snapped. Gwyn felt her heart slow down in trepidation; there was no other option, much as she hated to admit it. "Ready? Here I go—now, don't hang around once you've won."

Gwyn covered her eyes, not able to watch as Ron allowed himself to be taken; the sickening blow that she heard from the queen was enough to make her wince and when she looked up, Ron was lying motionless on the side of the board, knocked out.

Hermione screamed, but stayed where she was as Gwyn gripped her mother's necklace tightly, looking towards Harry. "Checkmate the king, Harry," she whispered and he blinked, pulled back into the game as he moved forward, towards the white king.

"Checkmate!" he said in a steady voice and the king threw his crown at Harry's feet. They'd won. The chessmen bowed to them before moving aside, leaving them free to head into the next chamber.

Gwyn cast one last desperate look at Ron, somehow knowing that he'd be all right as they ran through the door and into the next passageway. "He'll be all right," she whispered reassuringly. "What next?"

"We've had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare. Flitwick must've put charms on the keys. McGonagall probably transfigured the chessmen to make them alive. So that would leave Quirrell's spell and Snape's . . ." Hermione paused as they reached the next door.

"Oh!" Gwyn wrinkled her nose as they pulled open the door and a disgusting smell reached her nostrils and she pulled her robes up around her nose and mouth as she saw the humongous troll ahead of them. Thankfully, it was knocked out.

"Glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry whispered. He was right; it was even larger than the one they'd battled. "Come on, I can't breathe." They ran through the chamber into the door ahead of them and Gwyn saw a table with different shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"Snape's," Harry observed as they moved over the threshold. "What do we have to do?"

He had spoken too soon. Fire sprang up from behind them as they entered and ahead of them. There was nowhere they could run; they were trapped. "Okay, now what?" Gwyn asked, looking at Hermione, who picked up a scroll lying on the table. "What's it say?"

Hermione began to read:

"_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, _

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

_One amongst us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line,_

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand on either end,_

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend; _

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight."_

Hermione was smiling once she'd finished reading and looked at them, positively beaming. "Brilliant!" she exclaimed. "This isn't magic, it's logic! A puzzle! A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."

"But so will we, won't we?"

"Of course not," Hermione answered. "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles, three are poison, two are wine, one will get us safely through the black fire and one will get us back through the purple. Give me a minute," she added, studying the paper, whispering to herself as she ran through the clues and studied the bottles.

"Got it," she announced. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire—towards the Stone."

"There's only enough for one of us," Harry observed as he studied the tiny battle. "That's hardly one swallow." He glanced at the two girls. "Which one will get you back through the purple fire?"

Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle. "All right, here's what we're going to do. You two drink that, go back and get Ron, grab brooms from the flying key room and get out of here. Go to the owlery and send a message to Dumbledore, we need him. I might be able to hold Snape off for a little while, but I'm no match for him, really."

"And if Voldemort's with him?" Gwyn demanded, scared to death about the circumstances.

"Well, I was lucky once, wasn't I?" Harry asked, pointing towards his scar. "I might get lucky again."

Hermione, without warning, threw her arms around Harry and held him tightly. "Harry, you're a great wizard, you know," she told him as she tightened her grip on him.

"Not as good as you," Harry said, looking embarrassed.

"Me!" Hermione exclaimed as she let go of him. "Books and cleverness! There are more important things—friendship and bravery and—oh, Harry—please be careful!" She looked close to tears as Gwyn made her decision.

"I'm staying here," she said quietly and they both looked at her. "That way if Voldemort _does_ happen to . . ." She couldn't finish her sentence. "Well, I've still got a few charms left in me that might hold him off."

"Gwyn, you're hurt," Harry pointed out, nodding to her burnt hand, but she shook her head.

"I'm okay and it's not my wand arm, so I shouldn't have any problems. Besides, I'm Aurora Toren's daughter, aren't I?" she added with a smile. "I'm sticking with you. Don't bothering arguing," she told him, smirking. "You should know by now that it doesn't do any good." Harry smiled faintly as he nodded faintly.

"All right, sounds like a plan," he agreed after a minute, turning to look at Hermione. "You drink first. You _are_ sure of which is which, aren't you?" he added anxiously, looking towards the table to look at the foreboding bottles once again.

"Positive," Hermione assured him as she took a drink from the round bottle at the end, giving a small shudder as she laid it back down.

"It's not poison?"

"No, but it's like ice."

"Quick, go, before it wears off."

Hermione nodded, giving them one last look as she walked straight through the purple fire. Gwyn watched her go and turned to look at Harry, who opened his mouth, but Gwyn hugged him tightly, preventing him from speaking.

"Don't say anything," she whispered in his ear. "Anything that you say right now . . . it's just going to sound like a goodbye. And Hermione's right," she added with a watery smile. "You're a great wizard. Now go on," she ordered. "Go, Harry, and come back to us."

Harry smiled and nodded as he returned the hug before pulling away from her, giving her a long look before he drank the bottle and vanished into the black flames.

Gwyn watched him go before she pulled out her wand, ready for whatever was going to come next.

There was nothing left to do now but wait.

--

AN: Okay, guys, as promised, here is the next chapter. Just one more left and then it's on to the second year. Now, if you guys give me two or three more reviews, then I will post it tomorrow morning. Thanks!

Lady Dawson


	18. Seen and Unseen

**Gwyn Swann and the Sorcerer's Stone**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Eighteen: Seen and Unseen

Waiting was the worst part, Gwyn decided as she gripped her wand tightly as she paced back and forth across the chamber that had Snape's test, fire crackling on either side of the walls, illuminating her blonde hair as it bounced off of her shoulders as she paced.

There was no way that she could tell what was happening on the other side of the wall, where she knew that Harry could be in a life or death struggle with Snape and/or Voldemort. By the time that Dumbledore got there, he could be dead.

And she could soon join him and that was if she was lucky. There were things that she'd heard about Voldemort's regime that frightened her more than her worst nightmares. And her worst nightmares usually involved seeing a figure that she knew was her mother and a man with the face of a skull, who she knew was Voldemort's follower.

Closing her eyes, Gwyn gripped her wand tightly, shaking her head as all possibly scenarios of what was happening in the next room swept through her mind. "I can't just stand here and do nothing," she whispered as she stared angrily at the black fire. "There's got to be a way through here. _Aquae!_" she shouted, shooting a jet of water towards the black flame.

"Should've known that wouldn't work," she grumbled as the water sizzled and turned to vapour when it hit the flames.

Gwyn shivered slightly as she heard sounds of what sounded like a battle going on in the next room, just inches away and yet so far away from her. "Harry," she whispered frantically as she once again tried to put out the fire in front of her to no avail. Water simply wasn't going to do the trick here; in fact, she was beginning to think that the fire was beyond the skill of a first year.

_"You have to know where to look." _

In her mind's eye, she saw the young woman that she had seen before, her brown eyes staring at the blonde witch with compassion that she didn't understand. Gwyn gasped as her mind was pulled in the direction of the dream and she saw what was happening just on the other side of the wall.

"Quirrell," she said, but her voice had no sound, just a tiny breath of wind in the room. She had been right from the beginning; it hadn't been Snape. Somehow, she'd known that, even when they had decided that it had been.

Harry was standing before the mirror and then gasped as the reflection moved when Harry himself did not. It reached into his pocket and pulled out the same blood-red Stone out of his pocket and revealed it to Harry and the unseen Gwyn.

With a gasp, Gwyn found herself standing in front of the flames, her hands gripping her bangs painfully as she looked up, panting at what had just happened.

What _had_ just happened? she wondered as she stared into the flames, trying to get any sign of where her best friend was facing Quirrell. What was that, that had shown her the happenings down in the chamber? Gwyn could only assume that something was trying to show her that she needed to get down into the chamber to help Harry.

But how had he gotten the Stone? The mirror only showed . . . what a person desired most in the world. And at the moment, she knew that was probably what Harry wanted. To find the Stone before Voldemort did, to prevent a homicidal lunatic from rising again.

"He's the only one who _can_ get the Stone," Gwyn breathed in horror as she felt alarm rising through her. She stared at the flames, then towards the solid stone wall that lay opposite her, the only way into the chamber that she could see. It was a lost cause, but what choice did she have? She had to get in there—even if that meant blasting through solid stone.

"_Diffindo!_" she yelled, but the spell only left a small mark on the wall. "_Expelliarmus! Incendio!_" She cast ever spell that she could think of to break through the wall, one of which was certainly not first-year level and she'd only tested it once to see if she could cast it, with disastrous effects.

However, the spells seemed to be weakening the wall, at least, because when Gwyn cast the Disarming spell once again, an explosion erupted in front of her, sending her backwards into the wall opposite. She winced as she landed on her injured hand and scrambled to her feet just as the purple flames vanished and she spun around.

"Professor Dumbledore!" she exclaimed, relieved. How had he gotten Ron and Hermione's owl so fast? she wondered as Dumbledore's eyes travelled towards where the explosion had come from.

"Very impressive magic, Miss Swann," he commented. She frowned and turned to look, her mouth opening slightly as she saw the hole that had been caused by the spells. "It sounds like the battle is still going on; we should go assist young Mr. Potter."

Gwyn nodded as she heard the sounds of struggling in the next room and followed Dumbledore through the hole into the next room and gasped at the sight that she saw. Dumbledore was pulling Quirrell off of Harry, who fell unconscious onto the ground. Quirrell's hands and face were burnt as he rolled over to one side.

He was dead.

Gwyn fought the urge to scream as something inhumane appeared from Quirrell's body and gave a roar of fury as it swarmed from the room, out past her, Dumbledore, and Harry and away from sight. Dumbledore's eyes were focused on the thing that had vanished as Gwyn raced over to Harry, squatting down beside her best friend.

"Harry?" she whispered, grasping his hand tightly. She let out a sigh of relief when she felt his pulse rhythmically pounding against her touch. Raising her head, she looked at the headmaster. "I think he's okay. I can feel his pulse."

"Well, the nurse will know better than either of us, I think, but he should be all right, if he's got a pulse," Dumbledore agreed, waving his arm towards Harry, raising him into the air. "And I daresay that you could use some tending to as well, Miss Swann." He indicated her injured hand and she winced slightly, glancing down at it.

"My hand got in the way of my fire spell back at the Devil's Snare," she admitted, giving Dumbledore a weak smile. Dumbledore, however, chuckled as they left the chamber.

"You're a true and loyal friend, Miss Swann, to continue on and remain, despite the gravity of the situation and with an injury," he told her. "Your mother would be proud of you today."

Gwyn nodded as she thought about what she had seen while in the potions chamber. "Professor," she began, "when I was back there, trying to blast my way through . . . I saw something." Dumbledore nodded encouragingly as they walked. "I don't know . . . it was like my mind was pulled into the chamber and I could see what was going on, the battle with Harry and Quirrell and Voldemort . . . it was like I was there, but I wasn't." She sighed. "It's hard to explain, but it was like I could see them but they couldn't see me and it was only in my mind.

Dumbledore was smiling as she finished, an understanding look crossing his face. "That would explain why you were so desperate to enter the chamber. Only an extremely powerful emotion could have conjured up that powerful of magic, Miss Swann."

"But what was it?" Gwyn asked desperately. She needed to know what it was that she was seeing. "This isn't the first time that it's happened. I've had dreams before . . . dreams that didn't seem real. I saw a woman telling me that I had to know where to look and shadow figure in that chamber back there. Quirrell, I suppose that was, after the Stone . . . it's like I was receiving a warning of what was going to happen, Professor."

"Yes, I suppose it was," Dumbledore agreed, beaming. "Miss Swann, do you often see things that others don't? Or have strange intuitions about things that turn out to be accurate?" Gwyn frowned, wondering how he knew, and nodded. "I thought so. It's not surprising, that you would have inherited it. Although I didn't expect it to be so soon."

"Inherit what?"

"The Sight," Dumbledore explained. "The ability to see things that other people can't, about the future, the past, the present, about things that cannot be seen with the naked eye. How a person can use the Sight depends on their own strengths and weaknesses, but a seer's power usually peaks at sixteen. Very few have begun at age eleven."

"So Ron was right!" Gwyn said breathlessly. "I am a seer! And . . ." She blinked, realising what this meant. "And my mother . . . she was a seer, too?"

"Yes, many of dreams were often warnings that saved lives. I doubt that she ever had dreams that were normal. Aurora was a fine young woman," Dumbledore told her. "She would have gone to any lengths to save her friends and family, despite they turned their backs on her in the end." He smiled as they finally reached the third floor corridor, with a spell on the harp Quirrell had left to keep Fluffy asleep. "Now, let's get you both to the infirmary, shall we?"

--

Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, insisted on Gwyn staying the night due the severity of her hand injury and being thrown into the wall by the explosion she'd caused. Also, she apparently had a small case of magical exhaustion as well, because she slept throughout the entire night and most of the next day. By the time that she woke up, Gwyn was surprised to discover that it was night and Harry was already awake by the time, much to her relief.

It took much persuasion for them to convince the nurse to let Ron and Hermione in and when they came in, Harry told them the entire story about what happened. Voldemort had been possessing Quirrell the entire year and probably for a long time before that, his face on the back of Quirrell's head, unseen by the turban. Gwyn had been right; Harry was the only one who could get the Stone because he wanted to _find_ it but not use it. And Dumbledore, Flamel, and Flamel's wife had agreed that it was best if the Stone was destroyed, which meant that the Flamels were going to die. Ron declared that Dumbledore was off of his rocket.

"Dumbledore got there at just the right time, from what it looked like," Gwyn said when Harry finished his tale. "I had just blasted through the wall when he got there, but I don't know if I couldn't done a whole lot."

"WHAT?!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione all exclaimed and she grinned secretively.

"You blasted through a wall?" Ron demanded, looking impressed.

"How?" Harry demanded.

Gwyn shrugged. "I don't know, I just had the feeling that something was wrong and so I started casting every charm and spell that would cause some damage onto the wall and I guess I finally did enough damage to cause an explosion," she explained.

"Too bad that they've roped it all off," Ron sighed. "I would've liked to see that." Gwyn chuckled; apparently, they were still doing damage control down in the chambers, because they had roped off the third floor, preventing students from going down to see what had happened. "Listen, you two have got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course—you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you—but the food'll be good."

Ron and Hermione were forced to leave by the nurse, who ushered them out the door before ordering Gwyn to return to her own bed. If the nurse had her way, they weren't going to be allowed to leave for a month.

Fortunately, Dumbledore interceded on their behalf, convincing the nurse to let them go and they made their way down together, entering the Great Hall and making their way to Ron and Hermione, who had saved them seats. The entire hall was standing up to look at the hero of the quartet as they sat down, joining in the talk with their friends when Dumbledore arrived.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And now I must trouble with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were . . . you have a whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts . . ." Gwyn chuckled as she listened. "Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, an the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and two points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty two points; in third, Ravenclaw with four hundred and twenty-six points. And in first place, Slytherin with four hundred and seventy-two points."

The Slytherin table exploded with cheers as the rest of the houses only clapped politely as Dumbledore called for quiet again. Gwyn couldn't even look up at the Slytherins.

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore told them. "However, recent events must be taken into accounts and I have a few last minute points to award." Gwyn frowned as she stared up at the headmaster; last minute points? "First, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best played game of chess Hogwarts has seen these many years, forty points."

Ron turned purple as he grinned at the applause the rest of the school—excluding Slytherin—gave him.

"Second, to Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house forty points," Dumbledore continued, causing Hermione to burst into tears and bury her face into her hands. Gwyn patted her on the back, grinning towards Harry. "Third, to Miss Guinevere Swann, for risking her own safety for the safety of her friends, forty points."

Gwyn blushed, fighting a smile as she received her own applause, unnerved by all of the attention, but couldn't stop the smile from spreading as she counted up the points. They were a hundred and twenty points up.

"Fourth, to Mr. Harry Potter," Dumbledore added. A pin could have been heard throughout the quiet hall as everyone listened, casting glances towards the eleven-year-old who'd stopped Voldemort from rising. "For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Cheers exploded from the room and Gwyn quickly added up the points in her head. "We're tied with Slytherin!" she whispered happily to her friends, who were grinning. If Dumbledore had only given one of them just one more point, then . . .

"And finally," Dumbledore added after calling for silence. Everyone waited. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

Gwyn shrieked, but her shout was only one in the midst of shouts and screams of delight that echoed throughout the Great Hall. Neville was shocked and stunned at what had happened as he slowly joined in the cheering. Gwyn couldn't help laughing as she saw Malfoy's expression. She would've loved to have a camera to capture the moment; it was priceless.

"Assuming that my calculations are correct, I believe a change of decoration is in order," Dumbledore called over the applause. Even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had joined in. He clapped his hands and turned the green hangings to scarlet, the silver to gold and the Slytherin serpent became a Gryffindor lion.

And as she laughed and cheered with her friends, Gwyn knew that this was only a beginning in what was bound to be a series of battles against Voldemort and his followers.

But as long as she had her friends, as long as they had Harry by their side, she knew that they would survive. Because they all had something that was worth fighting for.

--

Remarkable as it was, Gwyn had passed her exams with surprisingly good marks, considering that she'd been worried about Voldemort rising again during them. She'd even managed to scrape through in History of Magic and Herbology, though her Charms exam well than made up for it. Hermione was disappointed when she saw Gwyn's Charms grade, but was thrilled for her.

"You might have a career in the Charms field, Gwyn," she said, to which Gwyn laughed.

"Why don't we get through the next year, Hermione?" she said, grinning. "Because I have the feeling that it's going to be just as terrifying and nerve-racking as this year."

"Well, that's school for you," Ron said wisely as they climbed aboard the train, watching the castle as it disappeared into the distance and grass became greener and tidier as they headed back to their homes.

Gwyn was looking forward to seeing Mrs. Harris again—she'd received a letter from her a few days ago that was both scolding her for being so reckless and congratulating her on a job well done. Although, a small part of her was hoping, even as they climbed off of the train, that her father was going to be there to meet her. Even as small as that hope was, she still wanted him to admit that maybe he'd made a mistake and still wanted her.

"You three have to come stay this summer," Ron told them as they waited in line to head into King's Cross. The guard was only letting them go in two's and three's so not to cause panic. "I'll send you an owl."

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully, "I'll need something to look forward to." Gwyn smiled as a few students yelled goodbye to him as they vanished through the portal.

"Listen to them," she said cheerfully, "you would think that you were famous or something." Harry laughed as they walked through the gateway, followed by Ron and Hermione.

Mrs. Harris was there when she passed through. "Have a good school year?" she said with a smile as Gwyn hurried up and hugged her tightly.

"Not bad," Gwyn said, grinning and Mrs. Harris smiled down at her as Gwyn's eyes travelled around the station.

"He's not here, dear," she said kindly and Gwyn nodded, disappointed, but glanced back at her friends. Harry was talking to Ron and his mother with Hermione standing nearby. "Go say goodbye to your friends."

"Thanks," Gwyn said gratefully as she went to give one last goodbye to her friends. It was strange after being with them for nine months, she wasn't going to see them for three more.

"So I guess this is it, then, huh?" she asked as the quartet stood together, looking at each other. "We're not going to say goodbye, all right? Just . . . see you soon," she said as she hugged each of them. "Don't forget to write, okay? It's gonna be weird not talking to you day after day."

"Yeah, thank goodness summer's here," Ron said, grinning at Harry. "I'm getting sick of these girls." Harry chuckled as Gwyn punched Ron, making him wince as he rubbed his arm. "Jeez!"

"Ready, are you?" Gwyn glanced at the huge man that was scowling at Harry, with a petite blonde woman and a vast son behind him. This, she supposed, was Harry's aunt, uncle, and cousin. "Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day."

Harry said nothing as he hung back while his uncle walked away with his aunt and cousin. "See you over the summer, then," he told them.

Hermione looked towards his uncle uncertainly. "Hope you have—er—a good holiday," she said hesitantly.

"Oh, I will," Harry assured them. Gwyn frowned. "_They_ don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have lots of fun with Dudley this summer. . . ."

Gwyn laughed as he waved goodbye to them as he trailed after his aunt and uncle, giving him one last goodbye as she walked back to her guardian. Mrs. Harris wrapped an arm around her as Gwyn held Tabby in her arms, stroking her gently as she waved goodbye to Ron and Hermione.

"Come along, dearest," Mrs. Harris said as they walked towards the car in the parking lot, "let's go home."

AN: Okay, this is the last chapter in Gwyn's first year. But as soon as I get enough reviews, say, oh, three or four, I'll post the first chapter of the Chamber of Secrets. Thanks for being so good about reviews on the last few chapters!

Lady Dawson


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